The Auburn Girl with the Violin
by Lunette-Armand
Summary: Erik moves on to another life. Trying to express his love of music in the Daroga's new Opera house in London. The Phantom becomes the new conductor of the awful orchestra and meets a talented young musician. Erik always thought he was cursed. But when he meets another heart as hindered by sight as his, will he fall for her? Second Fic.
1. Chapter 1

**I know that I am mid-fic, but I would like to start a little side-story if you like. I felt by doing this that it will help me to unravel my writers block. They won't be similar, I want to try different styles and develop different characters. This will probably be terrible. If I ever do publish this...so help me God.**

**I am not sure if I should carry this on, it depends mostly on demand. So if you want more, do please review.**

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He knew that his days at the Opera Populaire were over. As soon as the pitchforks and torches came out, he knew he had to run, he had to escape. Despite him loosing his muse, his world, his Christine and though the world was not ready to accept such a monstrosity, he had to find some way of leaving his mark on the world. He had to. Or it would have all been for nothing.

.

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The choleric flames in the hearts and torches of the Opera staff who bayed for his blood glowed strong and mighty against the stones of his tomb of night. Watching as the last ripples of water left by Christine and Raoul rolled into nothingness. As the final morsels of her sweet perfume fled from him.

As his heart lay broken on the floor like fragments of shatter glass, tainted glass, he let endless waves of sorrow flood through him. Droplets dripped from his chin into the water, creating new ripples. The whole lake could have been made from his tears. Tears that only he would shed for his dark fate.

The first few distant splashing footsteps of the mob began to cascade its ripples down the lake. It was time to go. Time to leave this place, try to live to forget this place, the people in it. But most importantly, her. The angel of music was now a widower of his own sound. He believed he would never be spendourful again. But every cloud has a silver lining, every dog has its day.

* * *

"Please do hurry Miss Cynthia, we have but a few minutes!" Called Esther, a small clarinet player who played flatter than a piece of paper stuck between a giants hands. In fact for such a popular and renowned concert hall the orchestra was rather awful. Then again, many who came didn't come for the music. It was all acting now.

Everyone wanted to be an actor, a singer, a dancer! But Cynthia had not the passion nor ability. With a sigh, she pulled up her red dress skirts, gripping hold of the banister tightly as she made her way down the steps. Taking huge, melodramatic ones in case she should accidentally miss and fall. As she often did.

Alas, she made it to the bottom with neither a trip or fall. So, with a smile on her face and a spring in her step she adjourned forwards. _Turn right after four steps, walk on three, left then nine steps, there you'll soon be._ Light chatter filled the air as she reached her destination.

Holding onto the backs of every chair, she guided herself to her trusty friend - her violin. Slumping in her chair, she smoothed her silken hands across the polished wood. A smile on her full red lips. Running her fingers down each string and plucking them to test the tightness her heart fluttered.

Soon, so very soon the entire concert hall would be filled with people. Women fluttering their fans. Men jesting and laughing with each other. Children that would giggle and whisper, no doubt getting up to all kinds of mischief. It warmed her heart whenever she heard the crowd roar. Giving her a fire in her body more ferocious than her red auburn hair. At least she thought it was auburn, _when was the last time I saw my hair?_

The cruel composer stepped up, wearing shoes that clicked and clacked as he switched feet nervously. It set Cynthia's teeth on edge when he did that. He was a horrid man too. Disgustingly over-weight and had the odour of a carcass in a bar, the drunkard.

Yet she digressed. The crowd began to file in, murmuring, fans fluttering, jesting, the orchestra began to buzz with conversation. Sheets ruffled hurriedly as everyone tried to find their place. Cynthia didn't need sheet music to know what she had to play, she actually liked to learn the songs she played.

Then, the crowd began to settle as did the orchestra. This was the opening night of the new production of Seidfried by Richard Wagner, a German composer. Cynthia personally disliked the story, however the music was fascinating. It was bold and grand and magnificent.

So she mounted her violin. Resting it on her shoulder, closing her eyes and taking a strong and slow breath. Bringing the bow to the strings and played. Everything went into it, everything she could give was given and everything the crowd could take was took. Wrong notes and flat notes existed. However they were not by her hands, when she played it had to be sublime, beautiful, perfection. It always had been. It always would be.

The entire thing was a triumph! The crowd roared, cheered and tossed roses up onto the stage - at the actors and the singers and the dancers. Never at the orchestra, but that wasn't because they were too high or out of reach. It was because they were awful. Yet they didn't even care to actually listen to the music. It was just there, like part of the set, or an effect. Nothing special.

As Cynthia made her way back to her tiny dressing room, with the splintered door down the third corridoor near the west exit - near the tiny alcove that was always cold no matter what the season, she had to push he way through fans. Fans of the actors and actresses. Fans of the dancers and extras, fans of the people they could see on the stage, the beauty and spectacle. _If only they could appreciate the sound..._

As per, she felt for the handle and got splinters of wood in her tender hands. So instead she beat the fragile door open with her hip. This was most certainly the life. For a while she sat there, smelling the damp of her dressing room that the manager had so kindly given to her.

As everyone slowly and gradually began to flood out of the Opera house, she guided herself to her coat which sat on the half broken chair - to the left when you opened the door. Now to her right. She shrugged it on and sighed for she knew it was late. Familiar footsteps trailed to her door and before they could knock she opened it.

"Good evening Mr. Kahn." She addressed him formally, with a curtsey. The persian made a slight huffing sound that Cynthia knew came with a smile.

"Good evening to you too, Miss Rivard." He took her hand and placed a small kiss upon it, "May I say how splendid you look tonight too Cynthia."

She smiled her acknowledgement and gratitude. "Would you like me to accompany you to your carriage?" Tonight, she noted, he had more cologne on than usual, in fact so much it nearly stung her nose at this distance. He was hardly a malodorous man. But it was a luxury he indulged himself in, she supposed.

"Thank you Nadir. You are so very kind to me." With one last step forward, she linked his arm. They walked together down the corridor.

"So, how did you find the performance?" Though his voice was void of excitement or anticipation, his bodily movements were rigid and bouncy. Like a giddy child or a happy puppy. Or a giddy child with a happy puppy playing together in a park on a sunny day.

"The orchestra were poor. However I am sure that the acting and dancing was fantastic, Sir." There was slight venom in her words that he noticed.

"I could not agree with you more. The composer is a laughing-stock." He laughed, nearly forgetting himself. "Have you not heard the news?"

With a roll of her eyes, she sighed. She was not one for gossip or whispers, tellings of misfortune and calumny.

"Nadir, you know I dislike slander and such. Yet you always tell me, for a Persian you seemed to have adopted the English disposition of gossip rather naturally." Nadir chuckled. As she was always this brash he took her predilection with a pinch of salt and carried on telling her anyway.

"The composer was found drinking during the intermission. Naturally, I conducted a search and as it turns out he had stowed away drink in his dressing room for years. No wonder he was so bad at his job..." After trailing off for a moment, voice distant as he delved into thought or memory, he came back.

"Anyway, I have dismissed him." The Persian concluded as they reached the grand doors of the front of the Opera house. Cynthia could hear the light whinny of her sisters horses from across the busy street. Before bidding him a goodbye, she turned to him.

"So who will be replacing him?" She asked, as commanding and quick tounged as ever. The Persian kissed her hand once again.

"A good friend of mine, he will be quite sufficient enough to fit the bill I assure you Miss Rivard." With another curtsey, she said her farewell to the good Sir and made her way across the street. Knowing to cross when others did in fear of getting hit like she once often used to.

"Come on Cindy! Let's go!" Called her beloved sister from the open carriage door. Judging by the brightness as bubbliness of her voice she had allot to tell. Her sister was beautiful. People often described her as the jewel of the family. The one with the emerald eyes and fullest lips. Blessed with great a great figure, so magnificent she need not a corset for her fine figure. How Cynthia envied her.

As she entered the carriage, she could hear her sister giggling. Exhausted, she sat down as the driver closed the door. Almost immediately, the carriage started and began to rock and rattle against the cobbled streets of London.

"It was so magnificent, wasn't it Cindy!" She squealed, voice so sharp that Cynthia nearly winced. Her sisters warm hands wrapped around her own. "Don't you think I was just amazing up on that stage?!" Her sister Lily boasted of her great success as the new prima donna. Whilst Cynthia sat, smiling and nodding - looking as pleased as she could for her sister. Going green with envy.

When they reached the house, they were greeted graciously by their parents. Who welcomed them from the chilly grasp of autumn and took them inside for some late night tea and light conversation. From the moment she stepped through the door, Lily had everyone's attention. So Cynthia used her sisters popularity to slip away to her room.

It was fairly empty. The bed was five steps in front from the door, windows either side of it the wardrobe was five steps forwards and three steps left from the door. Whilst her drawers were to the left beside her bed when laying flat on your back. They were all made of polished wood. Cynthia sat at the edge of her bed, fumbling over the straps on her shoes.

"Everyday, I can never get you off!Everyday!" She strained through gritted teeth as she yanked them off. Simply tossing them across the floor and flopping onto the bed with a sigh. After tugging off all but her undergarments, she slid into bed. With demanding rehearsals tomorrow and a new conductor it was going to be a hectic day. A hectic day indeed.

* * *

The carriage pulled up with a shuddering halt. So sudden and unexpected that she almost flew from the seat she was sat in and hit her head. Lily laughed and patted her silly sisters head. "Day dreaming were we? Hm?" She giggled as she opened the carriage door to find a buzz of people at the door. Cynthia caught snippets of their conversation as Lily linked her arm and guided her across the cobbled street with great haste.

"Have you heard about the new conductor?" Whispered a man with a low, yet vibrant voice, "They say that he wears a white mask on the right side of his face!" They all whispered questions and queries at each other, nattering and gossiping. Lapping it up like greedy kittens. Cynthia tutted under her breath and shook her head.

"Honestly Cynthia, you really should just stop being so judgemental all the time. If they want to believe idle myths and chit-chat then leave them be."

"How can I? All they ever speak of is others misfortune and personal gain!" Lily sighed, not wanting to argue as she led her sister to Mr. Kahn's office.

"If we did not gossip Cynthia darling, there would be no such thing as conversation." She stopped outside his door and knocked timidly. Putting on a voice that she thought made her sound more refined and lady-like but only achieved in the pronunciation of her words being shorter and less personal. "May come in?"

"Of course Lily, Cynthia." Nadir called out as he sat behind his desk. Another man sat in a chair facing away from the door. He sat cross-legged and whilst Nadir rose in acknowledgement of their presence, he did not. Which Lily noted was quite rude. "Please Cynthia, take a seat."

But as blunt as ever, she scoffed and folded her arms. Nadir sunk back in his chair, wishing he had not used those words.

"I can assure you 'Mr. Kahn' that whilst I am incapable of many things, a basic task such as standing is not one of them. So whilst I appreciate the offer of sitting I would like to remain standing throughout the duration of this little visit. Does this appease his majesty?" With a blush on his cheeks Nadir cleared his throat as the man in the chair chuckled slightly.

Lily shifted further into the room and tried to get a better look at him. It seemed as if he didn't want to be seen. Cynthia was bold and ventured right up to the man, even past him and stood barely a stone throw from the desk. Never actually facing the man, with her eyes directed between the space between the desk and him.

"Lily, Cynthia, I would like you to meet the new conductor, Mr. Erik Destler." Erik nodded his greetings to the two women and settled back in his chair.

"Is he mute?" Asked Cynthia rather insensitively, thinking it quite rude that he couldn't even spare them a word.

"I can assure you 'Madame' that whilst I am incapable of many things, a basic task such as speaking is not one of them. So whilst I appreciate the moment to begin conversation, I would like to remain quiet throughout the duration of this little visit. Does this appease her majesty?" Erik echoed, using her own sharp words against her. Despite the transgression of his tone she smiled and nodded as Nadir sat wide eyed and staring between the two of them.

"It's like looking into an impetuous little mirror." Giggled Lily as she,too, looked between them both. "Maybe they should be wed immediately!" She jested.

"I hardly think so, please do get some class." The two of them said harmoniously. Erik stood up now, giving Lily full view of his mask.

"Stop that!" They both yelled at each other as Nadir proceeded to laugh. Lily stared at the masked mans face. Millions of thoughts rushing through her head, what was it for, why did he need it, why would you wear it? All of the gossip was true.

His clothes looked expensive, she observed with great intent. Wearing entirely night attire, as one would in an Opera house but still it looked different - almost as if it was what he wore all the time. Strange...

Nadir had to break the two of them up before a fight broke out. Knowing them both as well as he did, he knew neither would hold back either. Leaving him wondering that if they did fight, who would win. He'd been slapped by Cynthia many a time. It really stung. No doubt she could probably knock seven bells out of Erik.

After finally settling them down, he sat back with a heavy sigh. Erik turned his back to Cynthia and she folded her arms. "So it's true what they say about red-heads then..." The Phantom muttered under his breath as Lily rushed over to hold her sister back.

"I heard that!" She yelled wanting to charge forwards and take a chunk out of the ponce. The scoundrel, that ruffian!

"Maybe I wanted you to hear it you old hag!" Cynthia gasped and made a low growl in her throat. "You cannot expect me to work with the likes of that, surely Nadir?"

Now bored with the whole affair, the Persian was reading a local newspaper, hunched over his ebony desk, smoking a pipe.

"It matters not how you feel towards her Erik. She is by far the best violinist in this place. You shall have to endure her." She smirked triumphantly.

"A big fish in a small pond." He scoffed as he picked up his hat from the desk. Readying himself to venture out, not wanting to be in that frightful womans company for nary another second. However it seemed she wanted to do the same. Evident as she was at the door. Already charging out of it like an out of control rhinoceros.

Erik waited a few seconds before venturing out also, sliding his hands into his pockets and walking down the corridor. Humming a light melody. Observing the finery of each walkway. Plush red carpets, pristine white walls with shimmering golden borders. The glory of an Opera house. The splendor-

"Are you following me Sir?" Without realising it, he walked straight into the fiery red-head from earlier. "Ouch!" She fell forwards and onto the floor.

"I do apologise!" Erik knelt down and offered her a hand up. That she batted away immediately.

"I am capable of picking myself up!" Sure enough, pushing herself up on her hands she rose. Using the wall to regain her balance, she brushed herself off, Erik noticed that she had a red, blotchy mark on her left cheek bone that would surely bruise. She held it and sighed.

"Four days without a trip or fall! Four days and you come along and mess it up!" She growled. Though her head was facing him, her eyes seemed to be looking past him. Now as he face her, he could truly appreciate how beautiful her eyes actually were - such a light blue that they could be nearly white.

"I-I did apologise..." He reminded her, voice now so bashful he felt like a small child under her glazed gaze. Never looking at him directly.

"Not that it matters!" She sighed and patted down her dress, "Though your voice sounds sincere enough...Fine, I accept your apology." With a flick of her auburn locks she walked past him, onwards towards practice. "Now do hurry. Surely you do not wish to be late on the first day?"

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When they arrived at practice, they were just on time. However the others were not. Erik stood pacing, agitated at their poor punctuality and disregard for time and planning. How was he supposed to go through an entire of an Operas songs, add his own twists, test each player and prepare for the second performance tomorrow night - if they weren't even there?!

Eventually, they all began to file in, one after another. All chatting and trailing up to their instruments. Pointing at him and whispering. No doubt about his mask. Luckily, gossip and whisperings from Paris never made it as far as London, unless of course it was political. So with his knowledge of good English, this was the perfect place to go.

The kept talking and talking, getting louder and louder. He asked for their attention, begged. Then an anger began to bubble up inside him. Cynthia picked up her violin and was already tuning it, despite the fact that it was already in tune and she was just striving for perfection. So he barged through all the chatter, galloped through all the gossip and made his way to the percussion section.

Then picking up a drum stick, he smashed the timpani with all of his might. It echoed through the entire Opera house. Cynthia threw her hands to her ears and grit her teeth tight. This was going to be one nightmare rehearsal...

"No! No! No!" Screamed Erik, voice becoming more commanding by the second. By now he had snapped several pens, ripped up several sheets and dismissed almost half of the orchestra. Cynthia gulped. He expected far too much, of so little people and he hadn't even made it to the strings yet.

She felt her entire body shaking, nervous. "We shall move onto the strings now!" Her head snapped up as she sensed him coming towards her. His heavy and angry footsteps. Then he tapped on her music stand, with something, a batton, maybe a pen. "From the beginning of the Aria, Miss Rivard."

With her heart pounding in her chest, she mounted her violin and prepared to play. But Erik sighed impatiently. "Child, do you not read sheet music?" He flicked some sheets in his hand and slammed them onto the stand. Again, with his batton, he tapped the stand.

"Which song is this, Sir?" She asked nervously. That's when he scoffed, stomping his foot, tilting back his head and letting out a mighty roar.

"Honestly! Do none of you have any respect for music?!" The words stuck in her sides like heated daggers, more than any wound or heart-break.

Cynthia gasped as he grabbed her arm, dragging her up and holding her inches before him. She struggled in his grasp. Trying her hardest to pull away as the pain in her arm got worse and she felt as if she needed to scream. "Look me in the eyes woman!" He pulled her in closer "Look me in the eyes and tell me you want to be here. But her eyes never met his, trailing only to his nose.

That's when something inside him clicked. He opened his hand and waved it. Right in front of her face, there was no reaction, so he did it again.

"Please Sir, let go of me... you're hurting me!" She bit her lip, biting back the tears. Again, he waved his hand.

"You're...blind..." He whispered under his breath, barely audible as he let go of her. She fled from him immediately. Now it made so much sense. She was blind.

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**Okay, so... yeah.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for reading my work, truly. **

**To the beloved Guest who reviewed I want to thank you for such kind words. Indeed Erik's a brute, as one would expect of the murdering Phantom. However his tenderness will come out. Eventually.**

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Tearful, Cynthia sat in her dressing room, with the splintered door down the third corridor near the west exit - near the tiny alcove that was always cold no matter what the season. How she hated the mockery. It was not easy for those of a disadvantage to get work... anywhere. Nadir was kind to her, he saw her potential and heard her sweet music - so hired her. They needed a little passion back then.

But then the mocking soon came. The tripping and the moving her chair from under her, it reminded her of those days when she would try to guide herself down the street and people would mug her. After all, she couldn't identify them.

All around her took advantage of her. Mocked her, claiming that she should be in care, instead of doing what she so loved. Since a small child, ever since that first day she picked up her violin and played it with her father she knew it was what she wanted to do. She had her whole life ahead of her.

Though back then she was so innocent. So stupid. For in the real world, dreams do not come as easily, it takes all you have and gives very little back. Cruelty is all around, for those who are cruel hae had evil done upon them by others with sick ordeals in their past. Mockery upon those who mock. An endless cycle, an endless chain of nastiness and shunning, until you meet the bottom of the pile. In this case, it was her.

Those who cannot fend for themselves are cast aside. Yet Nadir reached out to her and gave her such opportunity, now that man, that brute and that 'conductor' had dashed her dreams once again. Recently, the mocking had lessened. Now, she knew it was to make its revival.

How could he have been so... blind? Of course, she had not announced it to him, but surely it was obvious - any idiot could have picked up the hints. Then again, he was probably too self-absorbed to noticed much else.

Footsteps began to gently pad to her door. Soft and quiet, making a pitter patter along the wood - Lily. As quick as a flash, Cynthia rubbed the tears from her eyes with a napkin she always had in her top right pocket and sat up straight. Trying her best to look presentable.

Without even knocking, which Cynthia thought rude, Lily opened he door. But there was something strange. For her sister was not alone, there was a man with her whose footsteps she never heard. His movements were so subtle and silent they escaped even her acute and inhumane hearing.

"In here, Sir." Lily sounded shyer than usual, using that rather comical 'posh voice' she used in the presence of men or those of higher standing. There was a musty, masculine smell in the air - but also slightly coppery however not so coppery that it was a distasteful smell. It was natural, nice.

"Thank you." Appreciated Erik to Cynthia's more celebrated and dearest sister. She heard the door close with a soft '_clack'_ and then turned her back to him.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you sir, but I do not wish to speak to you." From the crying, her voice sounded swollen and he heard the pain in it. Sighing, she heard him lean against the wall. Rather sloppishly too. "Excuse me Sir, just because I cannot see you does not mean that you do not have to be presentable and well-mannered in my presence. I am still a Lady, I am still human."

"Of course." The reprimanded Phantom apologised gracefully and then stood straight. "I have come to... apologise." Though on the surface it sounded sincere, Cynthia learned (from a lifetime of being unable to see facial expression) about the tones of the voice and hidden vindictiveness and callousness, sarcastic comments and snide remarks. This, was secretly sarcastic.

"Sir, you do not need to struggle to apologise. I have spent a lifetime dealing with the likes of you and I have learned to beg God to-" At this Erik scoffed.

"God, as if there is a God." A slight chuckle came from him, "I suppose you pray for him to spare our souls?" Ignoring him, she continued.

"I have learned to beg God to turn you away from his haven so that you can suffer as I have for all eternity." Erik stood, staring at her, wide-eyed.

"So... you want me to go to hell?" He asked, surprised at how offensive one dumb of the sense could be. For in books they are the innocent. But in this little tale of reality, she was more quick tounged and offending than any woman or man he had ever met. Toughened from years of hardship. As feisty and fiery as the colour of her red hair which now tickled along her shoulders.

"Precisely." Adding a sweet smile that instead of softening the blow somehow made it even more patronising. Had she been a man he would have punched her. He so wanted to. Anger was prominent on his face as he glared at her across the room. Despite the fact that she was blind, she had such an excellent way of reading silence and listening for slight things that suggest expression or emotion.

"Do stop grinding your teeth Mr. Destler. If you are so enraged, you should have thought about that before barging into my dressing room and making sarcastic comments at me." She stood as his jaw opened slightly to prevent him grinding his teeth. "Now do excuse me whilst I get my coat, I have places to be."

Erik looked around, scanning the room for her coat and saw it on the back of the chair. It was a fine coat too, it looked very warm - perfect for the weather.

"It's in front of you, it-" He began but was interrupted by her scolding and offended tone of voice.

"I know where it is you cretin! On the half broken chair - to the left when you opened the door. Now to my right." She stated proudly as she barged past him and grabbed her coat. It was amazing how she could even remember that. He supposed it was because she hadn't images to worry about, that her mind could focus on such detailed and precise location.

She swung open the door and stormed down the corridor. Barging past all in her way, then out onto the streets. Lily came running down the corridor just after she disappeared and with a worried and flustered look on her face, she ran up to the mysterious masked man. Who was closing the door behind him.

"Where did she go? She didn't run?! Anastasia said she saw her leaving?! Where did she go?!" The questions tumbled over each other and the little prim donna struggled for breath. Having come from a rehearsal. But Erik merely shrugged and began to walk his way back to the orchestra pit, observing once again the finery around him.

"Sir you don't understand! She could get mugged or kidnapped or worse! How could you let her leave?!" The small blonde banged her tiny fists on his back, angrily as he walked, causing his body to bob a little. After a while of this he scoffed.

"I'm sure she can handle herself. She's not a child anymore Miss Rivard. She has assured me that she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself." The Phantom stopped in his tracks. Making Lily bump into him and fall onto her backside, making Erik smile. "I'm sorry." He apologised and turned around, holding out his hand to her.

A small blush crossed her cheeks as she looked up at the taller man. It was only then that through the jacket of his suit did she notice just how broad his shoulders were, how prominent his chest was. He was a healthy and fit young man. Though she thought that, it was hard to gauge his age with the mask on - but Nadir had especially emphasised that no one was to ask about it.

Explaining that it was very personal. gave off this autocratic and authoritative vibe, even the toughest of men feared him when he shouted. Lily could hear his angry cries from her dressing room as he tore apart the orchestra. He scared her - a little.

Nonetheless she took his hand, feeling how firm and masculine it was. Erik recognised the blush over her face and nearly gasped, that's how his Christine would always go when Raoul would flirt with her - flicking his long and floppy blonde hair. In shock, he nearly let go. Glancing around as people began to stop and stare. After pulling her up he adjusted his suit jacket, cleared his throat and walked away.

Lily watched as he left and then looked around at the people staring at her. Giggling and whispering. Flicking her head up she walked away with much haste - trying to catch up with her sister. By now she could be God knows where. How could she have let herself get so distracted?!

Her pace quickened, then came to sudden halt as she saw Nadir standing in the doorway of the front of the Opera house. Cynthia stood but a few inches in front of him.

"That snide little mongrel!" Cynthia shrieked, all the malice in the world snaked in her voice. Her teeth were grinding to hard that Lily was scared she would wear them away. Cautiously, she approached, leaping into the conversation as bravely as she could.

"What is this about?" Pondered the pretty blonde, as Nadir bowed his acknowledgement of her entrance into the conversation.

"That ! He said that I am not reliable or able enough to play in his orchestra!" Fumed the auburn, her fists clenched and arms stretched by her sides.

"I will try to persuade him Cynthia, but Erik can be very stubborn. I wouldn't want the two of you at each others throats constantly." Nadir tried to assure her, but she was furious and having none of it.

"Don't bother!" She yelled, Lily had never heard her so insulted and ridiculed "I quit!" Cynthia started down the steps, taking larger ones than she needed in fear that she might trip. Stopping half-way down. Turning her head to them as she met the bottom. "And please tell Mr. Destler that if he wishes to run a good and strong orchestra, he should consider actually having people there to play the instruments!" Then she was gone.

Nadir leant on the frame of the door, taking a large sigh and rubbing his weary eyes. Lily patted his shoulder.

"Our orchestra is dropping like flies. Now she's gone..." The Persian trailed off and shook his head. Before clearing his throat and smiling, standing up straight once again. "Lily, you know how stubborn she can be, but she loves her music. She'll be back, will she not?" He asked, a little too hopeful.

"I-I do not know Sir. She does so loathe Mr. Destler. He was not kind nor considerate to her feelings Sir." Nadir sighed once again. Sometimes work was just too much. The Persian knew that when he took his old friend on that he would be a bother, but now he had rid of his favourite violin player. Wait, no! Their best violin player, that's what she was - she wasn't his favourite... He blushed at the thought of it.

"Mr. Kahn Sir. We have noticed that you seem to have a soft spot for my dear sister. Is this true?" He coughed slightly and laughed nervously.

"No! I assure you my relationship with your sister is strictly professional Miss Rivard!" Anxious, he began to walk down the corridor. Sceptical of him, she followed, prying with more questions. He did often spend time with her outside professional hours, accompanying her to and from parties. She too claimed that it was all strictly professional and perhaps it was to her.

"I'm sure it is. However the way it is portrayed is that you are her suitor." He began to cough and splutter, a bright blush so very evident on his cheeks. "Oh dear, I do belive you have gone rosy Sir." The man held his hand up to his face, blocking her view.

"Please, leave me alone Miss Rivard." He spluttered as he rushed into his office and slammed the door behind him. Taking deep and rapid breaths.

.

As the day drew to a close, Erik sat in the pitch black. Everyone had left the Opera house, leaving him completely alone. He sat, sprawled in the chair like a sloth. His tie sliding off him and his top buttons undone. Tempted to open up a bottle of wine and have a good drink, though he knew it wrong. It had been a long and stressful day. But he had finally found some musicians with a good sense of pitch. None of them were as blind as a bat either.

With a groan, he stood, walking past all the instruments in their cases. Running his hand along the brass, caressing the wood and tapping the metal. But when he got to the string section, he noticed something strange. So he stopped, crouching down. All day there had been a violin, leant upwards against the side of the chair, frontmost to him. Now it was gone.

Suddenly, a spotlight lit. A woman was stood centre stage, looking down at the ground. In her hand was the most beautifully crafted violin he ever did see. Shadows danced across her face, obscuring his view of her. Then as she slowly lifted her head, raising the instrument to her chin he saw who it was. It was her. Her auburn hair swishing side to side as she raised her bow. And played.

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**So yay**


	3. Chapter 3

**This story isn't as successful as I wanted it to be, compared to how much time I actually put into it.**

**Hwever, because it is a stress relief for my other fic, I shall continue.**

**Sorry folks.**

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The auburn with the pale whirlpool blue eyes spun around on the stage with the ease and grace of a seraph. As her bow glided along the strings of that elegant instrument a euphoric sound derived from it. For the first time in his life, he had saw someone with such a passion in their heart that could rival his.

Continuesly, she spun. The melody was happy, major. Despite her dress she managed to leap and twirl like a proffesional ballerina as the spotlight followed her across the stage. Her long auburn pigtails seemed to glissade behind her, swirling around her.

Since the last time he saw her she had changed her dress. It was still the usually fiery red that she wore, however this time it was loose with no hoop. So as she spun it rose. Fluttering with each and every movement. The speed increased, his heart beat did also. It was as if each beat was the metronome for her musical tale, that he read as simply as a book.

At first the music was chipper, in short spurts - like a child, a happy child. An image was painted in his mind of a little girl, spinning and dancing with her violin, playing simple melodies in the meadows. Distant and careless from the world. Then, the notes began to get longer and lower. Signifying age and impurity.

It all sudenly went very dark and slow, in a high minor. Sadness and sorrow echoed from the slow and melancholic sways and expressions on her pale features. Loss, or realisation. The whole thing stopped dead. Once again, it started up in short spurts, sharpness and callousness throbbed in each note like a gaping wound.

The tone was lowered and occasionally went high, despair and tragedy, deep loss and failure. Then it slowly faded out. Starting off once again slow as she lowered herself to sit on the edge of the stage. It was happy, echoing feelings of love and purity. No expression on her face. Then it took a turn that Erik was not expecting.

The tones became dragged out and low, exhausted at first as she stood back up. Now her movements were slower put deliberate. As the low notes shook sultry tones and purred almost seductively. Even her movements portrayed his. As she spun, bending slowly and biting her lip. The music began to get faster and faster and Erik found himself getting rather warm.

Taking in deep and shaky breaths as he watched this teasing display. Her music made him feel. Made him feel emotions that were so genuine it affected every inch of his body. It could make him quake in fear, fill his eyes, make him smile, or think those thoughts that men were most predictable for thinking. How he hated those dark and forbidden thoughts.

Finally, to Eriks chadgrin, the music faded to a melody pleasant and fine. Happiness and joy. This improvised piece told a story as good as any book, novel or opera - infact it spoke it better. Those educated enough in soul to see it were blessed with it's blissful content. She was a truly talented and beautiful player.

When she finished, she stood centre stage. Trying to catch her breath and letting the real wolrd come back into focus. It was silent. deadly silent, with only her rapid breathing and thundering heart to keep her company. Or so she thought. For she did not know of the eavesdropper in the orchestra pit, tha man she so loathed and would rather see dead than see again.

Then, as began to lower her violin, she heard a light noise. It could have been a trick of the mind, maybe a ruffle of paper - but something definately moved. She snapped alert right away, trying to sound confident. Despite her shaky voice.

"Wh-Who's there?!" She called out, heavy breath in her words that gave away her terrorized appearance. Erik had never seen the woman look so... scared. She was always such a strong, powerful and overwhelming figure. But there was a subtle shyness in her music, as if she was only convincing herself that she was the woman she is today.

Erik got the impression that behind that hard, cold exterior - was a woman, true and kind. That, that auburn hair of hers was not only fiery with the anger of those who mocked her, but aflame with a burning love that could not be extinguised. Everything about her was so intense. Nothing was subtle, except in her playing. Almost as if her playing was her soul, her true persona, whilst her appearance was a blockade to her friendship and love.

The masked man was unsure if he should stay quiet, announce himself or run. If he was quiet enough he could slip away, his cat like feet could carry him out and she would never know that he had heard her. Alternatively, he could applaud. Congratulate her on her performance, no one had influenced or inspired him that much since...since...his Angel.

Perhaps if he did, he could hear her play more, maybe even with her! Oh but those thoughts were too dreamy! He could not indulge himself on music again, let his feelings become too strong - he wasn't ready. So he stayed quiet. Standing and watching her in silence as she tried to listen for more noise, none came.

A little shaken at nearly getting caught, she knelt her violin away with such care. It was almost as if it was her child, her most precious possetion - like she was packing her heart and soul away into that box. Erik watched.

He remembered his old organ in the Opera house. How lovingly he used to treat it, despite the wrath of his anger that he played on it - there was an organ here too. He would have to play it soon, though he had lost his spark.

He watched as she darted her head around frantically, trying to hear for that noise earlier. So very paranoid. Then she gasped and nearly dropped her violin.

"M-Mr. Kahn?!" Nadir walked up to the stage, dressed in his best. Erik rose the only eyebrow he had, for his usually confident Persian friend looked embarassed and nervous. He was taking short rapid breaths and was wobbly on his legs and constantly clearing his throat.

"M-Miss Rivard... there is... something I want to ask of you." Erik's heart stopped in his chest. Nadir was going to put himself forward as suitor! Something stung inside him and he felt as if he needed shout out or object against his friend. But then she would know he was listening.

The auburn adjusted her standing, makinga strong curtsey. Which he returned with a bow, low and then stood at the bottom of the stage. Putting himself forward as her suitor.

Erik was confused, his friend Nadir, the Daroga who used make women swoon for him, wooing whomever he wished. Having as many as he wanted. Now he was commiting himself, but he had come far since those days...

At first, the auburn looked shocked, a blush evident on her cheeks. Erik noted that she was writhing her hands behind her back, she wasn't sure. Yet she didn't refuse, nodding frantically. _Why would she do that? _Erik thought, for he recognised the unsure and quizzical expression upon her.

Nadir was delighted, laughing and leaping up onto the stage. Such a grin on his face as a delighted child with a new toy. He took her hand, placing a kiss upon it as she smiled almost sympathetically.

It felt as if he had been stabbed in the side, she was so talented and... beautiful. Not like his Christine of course, nothing could compare to his wonderous Christine. Alas there was something about her that made his heart warm and smile. Someone who understod how cruel the world could be, finding solace in music and the beauty of the sounds all around.

Now he thought of how cruel he had been. Reporting her to Nadir, calling her a disruptive and insulent cad. What he had done to her as well, being so insensitive about her condition, he put his head down in same. Watching as Nadir escourted her out.

Nadir could treat her right, like a real woman. Erik would never be able to do such a thing, with his cursed face and horrid temper he doubted he could ever understand the act of giving love. He hated not being in control.

It was almost like he was Lucifer himself, the fallen angel of impurity and sin, anger and hate. Everyone despised him, even those here who didn't know his gruesome fate. They hated him because his soul was as corrupt as his ugly face.

The Persian left with the woman on his arm and Erik slumped back down in his chair. Why did he feel so heart broken when she wasn't even his? He didn't want her to be his, did he? A few minutes ago he loathed her, now he... He didn't know.

But should he steal her from his friend who sorely deserved her to see if it satisfied hi needs? His mind was racing and he was so confused. What to do , what to do?

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**If you enjoyed, please review.**

**Thanks.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay. So yeah. I don't really know what to put here, so I'm gonna shut up.**

**Yeah.**

**Vc, thanks. I will for now.**

**icanhearthedrums thank you for coming and checking out my second fic. There will be a fight for Cynthia's affections. The two charmers haha.**

**Stargazer1364 thank you so very much! I'm sure you could be, it just takes a little faith. **

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That morning, when Nadir arrived - he had her on her arm. They were laughing and smiling and Erik had never seen his friend look happier. Cynthia's smile was so sweet and bright that all of the men stopped and stared, for they had never noticed this little Daylily until she was on one of the grandest arms in London.

Nadir made a snide a joke about someone with bad breath and Cynthia chuckled. So soft. Her light giggle was more divine than any song bird, any opera, any instrument that any man had ever heard. To think sometimes she could be wickedly stern and majorly cruel.

Erik was in awe, yet shock at the outfit she donned. Presumably bought by his good friend Nadir (who to Erik lacked any sense in style and got all of his grandeur from him). It was her usual red, that suited her skin as the color was made just for her and all her beauty. Her beautiful and bright pale skin.

It was a nice dress though, it was very tight at the chest - making mens eyes trail to that area, thinking those dark thoughts that made them into monsters. It was tight around the waist too. Leaving no curve, no shape or delve unrevealed - it made her body look so very beautiful and very true. It showed everyone everything that she had - all of her assets... every last one.

Erik found his mouth parting slightly at the sight of her. She looked uncomfortable wearing it, but obviously couldn't see how it looked - had she not been with Nadir, one would have thought her a common prostitute. No woman would ever dare show that much skin! Not now not ever! Fuming, Erik stormed over and grabbed her arm - causing more to stare.

She grit her teeth and shrieked in pain, trying to pull away - whilst Nadir growled.

"Get off me you ruffian!" She screamed and everyone began to gather around, Nadir clenched a fist and prepared to punch his friend who had been so good to him for years.

"I cannot believe you Nadir!" Erik dragged her into a room, Nadir followed in behind, ready to fight the Phantom for her. He was hurting her, as he slammed the door she slapped him on the unmasked side of his face. It stung and burned, not because of the pain. But the idea of her raising her hand to him hurt him even more inside - the fact she hated him so much as to strike him...

"You think it is appropriate to parade her around in such sultry and provocative material?!" The veins on his face stuck out as he ranted, nearly going red with pure ferocity.

"It's not provocative, nor is it sultry! It is... modern!" Justified the Persian, but Cynthia seemed to read the air and pressed a hand o her chest, feeling the dangerous amount of exposed flesh there and blushing. Erik stared at her, never seeing her look so innocent.

Her eyes were shut and a blush crossed her cheeks as her mouth made a soft little 'O' in realisation. She looked almost like a flustered child as she shifted foot to foot, clutching her very bare chest. Nadir looked at her, ashamed a little at himself for letting the shop assistant sell her such filth... and for himself for picking it out.

But before Nadir could even apologise or offer her his coat, Erik had stepped in. The Phantom removed his jacket and helped her on with it, she shrugged it on quickly and gratefully. He buttoned it up for her. It still suited the outfit she wore, contrasting brilliantly with bright red and covering her up simultaneously.

Nadir stared at his Phantom friend curiously as he was tenderly wrapping the jacket around her bare shoulders and taking great care in buttoning the shirt up. He had never seen him so patient about anything in his life. When Nadir would ask Erik if he could borrow his coat, he would either deny him, or would throw it at him and grumble. But now he was so gentle...

Perhaps Erik was getting soft in his older age. After all, he recognised how wicked and selfish he had been - murdering to get his way. Plus he often found his friend crying after hours or in his dressing room - very unstable. The only thing that was keeping him sane was this job.

Alternately, there was something in the mans eye. His friend had shown that he has been prone to fall in love in the past, with so many women on sight - then that dangerous obsession with Christine Daae... It couldn't possibly be that. Nadir grit his teeth as Erik teased with her hair and commended her playing. How could he not see it before?

She was so perfect for him. Being blind she would never see his contorted and corpse like face, she would get to know Erik for the person and not the monster. Their feisty personalities would make a very tough relationship - but those kinds of people are usually attracted to each other. But there was a side to Cynthia that many hadn't seen - a side that Nadir had gotten to know very well, her musical spirit.

When she played the violin she was an entirely different person. The hard and feisty exterior melted away, as did the pain of so many years and it was just her and her music. Just like Erik when he played piano or sung or composed. They were like mirrored spirits...

But Nadir had loved her from the first time he met her, when she was but sixteen and was introduced to him at a sponsorship ball her parents had thrown to support the opening of his Opera house. He was desperate for money and the Rivard family were made up of famous :actresses, actors, singers, dancers, musicians, composers and directors.

He remembers the first time he spotted her across the hall. At first he only glimpsed her auburn pigtails trailing behind her as her sister was twirling her through the crowd. He remembered vividly himself chasing her around, weaving through dancers and darting his head side to side. Then the whole room went quiet as every head turned to the stage.

Sure enough, there she was - her well crafted personal black violin in her hand as she played. Twirling and dancing as she went. Capturing every mans heart in the room.

From then on he promised himself he would do all he could to capture her heart too, to feel her in his arms. He wanted to bottle up her beauty and her love and keep it perfect and pure forever. That's primarily why he hired her. Also because of her exquisite playing, he would ask her for private recitles or to come up with a little medley for him. She would stun him every single time - never growing old, never ceasing to set his heart aflame.

Now he had finally come up with the courage to ask her, it may have been too late. For now he'd have to compete with Erik who - despite his face - could be quite the charmer. The smooth voice, gentle touch, fantastic taste, musical enthrallment and the dramatic romance. There was so much to his friend, so much to be discovered and explored. Of course, Nadir had a dark pas as Erik - but at the end of the day he was now just a business man. A business man who spent most of his time signing papers, attending meetings, organising shows, drinking tea and watching as his hairline started to recede.

At this he smirked to himself. At least he had hair, rather than his ugly friend who never had enough to make a shirt cuff. But this wouldn't matter to her and that's what really mattered here. At the end of the day it would be her choice, who she loved. Nadir now knew he had a rival and they would stop at nothing to get what they wanted.

"Cynthia." He addressed the girl brashly, so brashly, she turned with a look confused and concerned. "Can you please tend to your sister, help her into costume whilst I have a word with Mr Destler?" Erik's head snapped up from looking at her. She nodded a reply, er auburn pigtails bobbed causing a ripple to travel through them like a shaking flame. She left seconds later.

"What is this about Nadi-" Before Erik could finish what he was saying, his friend slammed into him. Consequently knocking the air out of his lungs and leaving a nasty bruise on his ribs.

"You! This is about you! You and your crush on MY Cynthia!" The Persian yelled in his friends face as he kept him pinned up against the wall, a hand to his neck. The Phantom was helpless beneath the Persians grasp. Once upon a time Nadir was the tiger of assassins, so fast his prey couldn't run - so strong they could not hide. Whilst Erik tended to play more with the shadows and the elegance of tricks and traps.

Of course, she could never know.

"She isn't yours!" He struggled to speak as air was in short supply now, due to the firm and strong hand, enclosed around his muscular neck. "You're just a suitor!"

"So you don't deny you have a love for her?!" He asked impatiently. When his friend did not reply, he dragged him off the wall and slammed him against it again. Causing his back to make a nasty cracking sound.

"I-I have only taken a fancy to her, I swear!" He cried out, feeling but a helpless child. Yet his friend did not see convinced as the veins that stuck out on his head pulsed and he was entirely red, baring his teeth.

"Erik, she is the best thing that ever happened to me! You will not steal her away! Do you hear me?!" Again, he violently slammed him against the wall. "DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Yes..." Cynthia said from the door, her eyes sympathetic and saddened at Nadir's rash actions. "I hear you Nadir. I hear you loud and clear!"

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**Dra-ha-ma!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, not allot really happened in that last chapter. Here's a little eventful one. **

**icanhearthedrums, thanks for the review! I personally love Nadir, he's so mysterious you can do what you wish with him.**

**Stargazer1364, thank you for this rather...enthusiastic review. Yes, it was rather low of Nadir - but boys will be boys I suppose. I'm glad it surprised you. I do so hate the cliché.**

**Barefootballerin... indeed. **

**Okay, so shall we get started?**

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For the remainder of the day, the petty persian was in the proverbial 'Dog House'. Cynthia, being the stubborn young woman she is, decided to ignore him pretending not to catch what he had said. Actions one would deem as immature. Yet, she had every right to do so.

Erik avoided him like the black death. Now seeing his once close friend as an enemy and pervert, making her wear such improper attire. Especially in fornt of a work force than was predominantly of male gender and of that sexual orientation. Many were even appalled at the new suitors behavior, Lily was furious!

So, she went to work beside Erik - helping to sort out the orchestra. After all, it needed it. She stood by his side all day, listening as they went through each aria, correcting mistakes for the big show tonight. Everything had to be perfect, Erik would not allow a single bum-note, the rhythm had to be bang-on and not any persons could be slacking. He was quite the slave driver.

Nadir found himself drowning his woes in the ale house down the road, it wasn't even mid-day. But there he found solace. He found he had something in common with all the drunks and the merry, he even started to dance with a few of them he recognised. Lots of them were people who Erik had fired yesterday.

In a moment of madness, he invited them back, slurring talk about jobs and gossiping about Erik. They were laughing. Many of the drunkards were falling back and onto the floor, unable to get themselves back up like toddlers. He found himself laughing and stumbling along with them, this was the life.

"Nadir!" Erik came barging in, pushing over several stools. "Nadir, what in Gods name are you doing here?!" The Phantom gripped his arm tight and tugged him from his stool. But the drunks legs were no longer of his own controlling and he fell down. Waving his free arm in the air, he laughed and burped as Erik started to drag him out of the stinking ale-house.

His usually smart attire was disheveled and unsightly. So he held him up against the alley wall outside the stinking brewery, growling in his face.

"Whut doo you want naw!" Hiccupped Nadir as he felt vomit rise to his mouth. Erik recognised the expression on his friends face and managed to dodge out, just before e spilt his breakfast all over the floor. Sighing impatiently, Erik began to drag him back to his house.

"Honestly Nadir..." He trailed off as he lead him to the mansion. It was a grand place. It towered over the bustling streets of higher London, white chalk like brick lined with gold like a palace. The sweet maid Marie opened the door and lead the drunkard up the oak spiral stair case. Everything here reminded him of the Opera house in France.

The golden statues, the white and red and blue furniture. The entire house had a mixture aroma of wine, roses and slight cologne. Erik felt very at home here, though it was the first time he had actually lived in a house - living in catacombs or in basements, or tents. Never had he had a proper home.

"Marie, come into my room Marie!" Nadir laughed hysterically as he fell into his room, "Join me in the bed Marieeeeeee!" Erik impatiently sighed, rubbing his temples and charged up the polished spiral staircase to his friend's room. There he lay, on the bed. "You're not Marie!" Nadir burped as he blinked a few times, looking around as if he had seen a ghost.

"Sadly not." The Phantom shut the door behind him and walked over to the four-poster bed. Nadir held his arms out, looking at him all lovey-dovey.

"Come Erik! Come lie with me!" Laughed the intoxicated Persian as Erik rose his brow. Suddenly, he began to turn his head around, looking left to right. "Where is Cynthia?" He carried on looking around frantically and even picked up a pillow, looking underneath it incase she was hiding from him. An unlikely scenario.

"She's at the Opera House, running the place. Which is usually your job." He jested. However his friend did not see the funny side, evident by his glare.

"Oi! I am good at my job!" He tried to argue as he started to already forget how the conversation had started.

Erik had never seen his friend this drunk since his Mother had died. He remembered finding him, vomit in his hair laid with a couple of prostitutes and a prize butchers turkey under his arm. Of course, he remembered nothing. It was quite obvious he was distraught about the heated row he had had with her.

She even went as far to slap him when he even mildly suggested that she was sleeping with Erik. Which he blushed at and had to turn away, as a lustful man - such thoughts had crossed his mind. But his Christine was so pure and sweet. He could never defile such angelic creature.

Cynthia was different. It wasn't just that he had taken a fancy for her, he lusted for her - whenever she would tap his shoulder or touch his hand he would try and keep her touch there for as long as possible. The smell of her perfume made him swoon. Her fiery temper ignited something deep inside his heart.

Her very presence rekindled a love he thought long gone, her pure passion for music set his head in a whirlwind. He was not sure if he should confront her as a suitor... His friend deserved a love sweet and pure. Yet all day she seemed so deep and lost in her own world. Even more so than usual.

This morning, as she sat at Nadir's desk - Erik went through the seating arrangements for the aristocracy in the local area. After repeating it several times, she had to write it down as she stared into space. He could have sworn she was thinking about Nadir, that faraway look. How he yearned she was thinking about him.

He finished tucking Nadir in and dressed up, changing his tie and suit jacket for the show tonight. Cynthia would be standing in Nadir's place so he had to find a stand-in violinist who was God-awful at playing. He would have to suffice.

During the short walk back to the Opera House, he let his mind wander - for at the moment it was rather lost. Trying to navigate its way through this maze of emotions and labyrinth of possibilities. There was too much ti handle inside his head, even for a genius like himself. If there was on thing that could stump him, it was love. So foreign.

As he battled his way through the crowds leading up to the stage, he heard whispers and gossip of the argument. People falsified information to make it seem as if she was actually being unfaithful - even if he had been her suitor for but a day. Erik pushed his way through them and announced himself at Nadir's office door to be greeted by no reply.

Curiously, he knocked but again there was no answer. So he opened the door to be greeted with one of the most blissfully peaceful sights he had ever laid his eyes upon. Cynthia, sleeping like a baby.

Her arms were folded up on the desk, over a piece of paper she had been shakily taking notes on. For someone who could not see what they were writing, she had such pretty handwriting. Her head was resting on her arms, her eyes were closed and her full red lips remained slightly parted as she took in deep and relaxed breaths.

Sometimes, her breaths would make sounds and her lips would twitch uttering words. For a while he stood watching. Watching the rise and fall of her chest and staring at those beautiful and pure red lips that were so shiny they could have been crafted from ruby.

He found his legs trailing over to her, without his permission. Now he had suffered for so long and come so far, he wanted to indulge himself so very badly. There was a queesy fluttering feeling in his stomach as he bent down to her level, holding his face inches from hers. Their lips were so close he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

Nervously, he withdrew. What if she woke mid-kiss and screamed and everyone came running? How could he ever explain? Nadir would surely string him up by his neck and leave him for dead. But he was so close now, he couldn't bear it.

So he leant down again, feeling her warm, sweet breath against his skin. Then he stole a kiss from her delectable lips. How he revelled in it, those few passionate moments passed so fast. He pulled away and recoiled, trying to see if she had awoken. Luckily, she had not. Wit a sigh and a shake of his head, he left - feeling ashamed.

As soon as the door clicked closed, Cynthia took in a deep breath. Opening her eyes with a start. She ren her fingers along her lips, a blush on her cheeks making her all rosy.

"He kissed me..." She whispered to herself. "He...actually kissed me..."

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**Bless.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay. Sorry for not updating so quick, I have had allot to do recently and not a lot of time to do it. **

**I also apologise if the flow of the story is a little mashed up. I wrote it over several days. **

**Apologies.**

**icanhearthedrums, thank you! I was really trying to input the cute element in Cynthia and Erik after the callous start they both had.**

**Stargazer1364 I actually checked that song out and thanks, it was pretty good. I think that suits the tone rather well.**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, thanks. I do so hate Mary Sue characters. I personally love the drama of a good love triangle, I suppose that is why I am so obsessed with POTO and its amazing characters. Except Raoul. Annoying little fop.**

**RedDeathLvr thanks and love the name! I do try to throw in a few surprises and some sweetness, so thankyou.**

**Thanks to everyone for the ongoing support and lovely reviews, if you have any criticisms or pointers, please to tell me - I'd like to make the reading experience as enjoyable as possible.**

**Thank you.**

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Erik left the show that night with a little life in his heart. He knew it was wrong, God did he know it - but it still fulfilled him slightly with something... like he had achieved a greater goal. From then on his thoughts about Christine had began to lessen and he found himself constantly wanting to be around another. Her.

Whilst the orchestra played and she concentrated hard, he would take advantage of her disability and stare at her. He loved the way she would lick her lips and pucker them as she concentrated. Making them reder. Sometimes when he watched he would have to grip the arms of his chair to restrain himself from sweeping her off her feet and taking her some place private.

Sometimes, with a strange sort of sixth-sense, she would catch him staring and blush. Then pout her lips furiously and cross her arms. He'd often chuckle at this childish blight display and look away until she lost the feeling and then watch her again.

Of course Nadir picked up on this... The blushes, the stares, the teasing and the cosy little chats over cups of steaming tea in Erik's office - he was going green with envy. Cynthia was hardly even speaking to him now, after everything that happened he was lucky that she was still coming to work. She was only doing it for him.

He waited for her to finish rehearsals and watched as Erik still sat, a slight smirk on his face and his posture so strange. It was almost like he was drunk. However he knew his friend well and knew that he wasn't easily drunk, so he couldn't have been. He had a confident air around him, watching as she packed away her violin so carefully, as if she packing her fragile little heart into a box.

It was the little things that she did, those small innocent little movement and habits. Chewing on her lip, straightening her hair, flicking it from her shoulders, the swaying of her hair and hips as she walked. Contrasting with her fiery passion and quips on her tongue sharper than any blade, she was a woman that he yearned for. But now she was drifting away from him.

From that distance he could barely hear what they were saying - but as she finished packing up and stood, he stood too. He wanted to shout and protest, but found himself only able to watch. Letting it unravel before him.

"Cynthia..." Erik trailed off, for when her unfocused eyes looked up at him all his courage bled out and he found himself cowering before her once again.

"Yes Mister Destler?" She asked confidently but with a slight blush on her already rosy cheeks. It did so put a smile on Nadir's face when she dropped the fury front even slightly and gave a glimpse of the real and soft woman underneath. Except now she wasn't doing it for him, but for his 'friend'.

Erik saw the flush of her cheeks too and chuckled to himself, causing her to raise a quizzical brow and purse her lips slightly. Why was he laughing?

"Cynthia, there's something I've been meaning to give you." Her mouth opened slightly to ask what it was and to Nadir's horror she never managed to form that sentence.

With a smirk he put his hand on her stomach, pressing her against the wall. A gasp slipped from her sweet red lips and her eyelids fluttered almost dizzily. Nadir went to shout but no noise came. Instead he could only watch as Erik unbuttoned the top few buttons on his shirt, allowing him to move his neck better, revealing a morsel of his surprisingly chiseled chest.

Without a word, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and through her hair - pulling her face closer to his. Their lips were inches apart. Once again her sweet breath fell in hot pants against his face, condensing on his mask and sending cold shivers through his body. He was now a few centimetres from pure bliss.

But he was surprised to find to find that the bridge was crossed and not by his own doing. Their lips pressed together and Erik could have sworn he saw stars, bright lights and shimmering glitter in his vision. She had kissed him!

Nadir's heart broke in his chest as he watched their lips collide in dance of the flesh. Erik's strong hand slammed on the wall beside her head and now Erik could see terror in her bright blue eyes. Afterall, he was a brute, a monster - not to mention that mask. He was deceiving her. She never knew and would never behold the disfigured horrors that lay beneath that pristine white cloak of the face.

Then again, that's why they were so perfect. He should have known, he shouldn't have been so blind. He couldn't stand to watch anymore as the woman he loved clashed with dearest and oldest friend he had ever had.

So instead he walked away. Trudging his way begrudgingly to stuffy little office, crammed full of papers and stinking of cigarette smoke. With a tired shrug and exhausted sigh he slumped into his chair. As he opened his drawer he was greeted by the smiling faces of his new best friends: Mr Whiskey, Mr Rum and Mr Tobacco.

Meanwhile, Erik had her against the wall - stealing kiss after kiss from her. But now he was scaring her. His hands were possesively holding her in place and she couldn't find the breath to ask him to stop. It was one of the first times in her life she had been genuinely scarred.

The masked side of his face began to press against hers and the cold of it nearly stung her skin. She struggled beneath his grasp and managed to place two hands on his chest. Only to find that the top of his shirt was open and her hands grasped at his firm chest. Once again she gasped and felt the smile on his lips.

He always wore suits and night attire so she never realised how muscular he was. But as he had her in his arms she felt the tense muscles writhing beneath the suit and found she wanted to bite her lip. But she wanted no more and pushed at his shoulders.

Within an instant he recoiled and grabbed her arms, scanning her face for a reaction. But she turned her head to the side. She was so ashamed and embarrassed, she could even feel her cheeks roaring and burning. Erik sighed.

"I'm sorry... So sorry." He loosened the grip on her arms and passed her the violin case. Which she accepted with a nod and walked away from him as if she was wounded. It broke his heart.

After pacing the floor for some amount of time, he sat down and tore off his wig, his mask and stared down at the floor. What had he done? He had ruined everything, he was close! Love was within his grasp and he held to tight, once again.

In a blind rage he began to whip his way through the opera house. Tearing the wallpaper from the walls, kicking down costume racks and baring his teeth, screaming through them. Eventually, he made his way to the Persians office.

Angrily, he swung open the door. Finding his friend once again drunk and incomprehensible, leant back in his chair smoking rings and laughing to himself. He didn't even flinch as his friend crossed the room and raised the bottle in the air.

Erik took mouthfuls and mouthfuls until it numbed the pain. That girl, that woman - she was the devil.

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**Not my best chapter I know, but please tell me what you think.**

**Thank you and I hope you continue to read.**

**More romance next chapter.**


	7. Chapter 7

**RedDeathLvr, thanks for the review! Well, we'll just have to see how this goes.**

**icanhearthedrums, I'm always dreaming about Erik's muscular chest... ahhh.**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, there will be lots of fluffy stuff in the next chapter, so prepare yourself.**

**Stargazer1364, awwh, thank you for the kind words. I'm glad my work makes you smile!**

**Sorry about the huge gap betwen updates, however the other fan-fic I've been working on has come to a close. Therefore, I should have more time for this one! Hooray!**

**Shall we get started?**

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The next day, rehearsals were cancelled due to a fault in some of the new electrics in the main theater. Lily watched as her sister piled herself hurriedly into a cart and never returned all day. However, she was so busy that she never realised her sister did not come home that night, or the morning after.

Lily woke late the next morning, rehearsals had been cancelled again meaning that everyone had the day off. She padded downstairs to find Nadir stood, clutching his gloves tightly in his hands -looking as if he hadn't slept. Dark rings hung like swollen halos over his deep eyes.

"Ah! Good morning Miss Rivard!" He called suddenly as she seemed to appear in front of him. He was slightly startled, having been staring into space for so long.

"Good morning Mr Kahn... Are you quite alright?" She continued to walk down into the dining room to receive her late breakfast as he trailed behind her, eyes worriedly darting along the floor and his fingers were fussily twitching- like he often did during a performance. Nervous about things going wrong.

Cynthia would usually ease his troubled mind by elbowing him harshly and telling him to calm down because his fussy nature was starting to make her nauseous. However, Cynthia didn't appear to be here. In fact, Lily can't even remember hearing her beloved sister coming home at all last night...

"Wh-where is Cynthia?" Lily asked nervously as she sat at the table. A plate full of hot oats was passed to her in order to warm her up, honey was drizzled along the top to add a little sweetness and a steaming tea-cup was placed next to her.

"That is what I wish to know also. She was supposed to meet me this morning, she promised me she would meet me for tea so we could solve a few of our problems... I waited for three whole hours." The tone of his voice was saddened and cracked with fear of her fate. He looked as if his legs were going to give out. Luckily, Lily managed to offer him a chair just before his legs turned to jelly.

"She left early yesterday morning and I didn't hear her return..." Told Lily to the Persian man as she stared into the tea-cup sick with worry. Anything could have befallen her sister. Though she talked big and had wit as sharp as any blade, she was still disadvantaged and vulnerable. She could have been mugged or kidnapped or worse!

Nadir knew this too, evident by the look of pure woe and helplessness on his face as tea was placed in front of him also. But what good could tea do?

"I can't even call the police to start a search. They told me she must be missing for longer than a day before they spend their men on searching for her. I-I just feel so useless... so helpless." He picked up the tea and despite the fact it was steaming hot, drunk it in one huge swig.

Lily knew the feeling too. The last time this had happened they found her three days later in a dark alley unconscious - she had been mugged and was so shocked and dazed that she couldn't get up. Passersby mistook her for a tramp. They were lucky to find her then, what hope did they have now?

One of the maids came rushing in with a letter in her hand. It was lined in black and had a red wax seal in the shape of a skull in the back, Nadir recognised it immediately and stood dropping his tea-cup whilst tipping his chair. The cup landed with a smash on the floor as the letter was handed to Lily.

The young blonde read the neatly sprawled and talented handwriting, her face at first showed relief then dropped.

"Dear Lily and Nadir, do not worry for Cynthia. She is here, safe with me in my home, well fed and unscathed. She will be safe in my protection and will continue to be in my protection from this day forth, I am sorry Nadir but it is the only way I can go on living. I-" Lily was interrupted by some commotion at the door.

There was some shouting and fretting and wailing. Nadir ran to the noise and so Lily, to find a distraught Cynthia at the door. Tears ran down her face and she had blood on her hands, they led her into the lounge and handed her a hot cup of tea. But she was too in shock to speak, so instead she sat, rocking slightly as Nadir held her.

"It was awful..." She repeated over and over. He knew what this meant, he knew what Erik had shown her, what she had done - but he had to hear it from her. She could no longer bring the tea-cup to her own lips, her hands shook and tea splashed over the white dress she was wearing.

It was strange, Lily never recalled Cynthia ever owning a white dress - Cynthia always suited such macabre colours like: red, purple and black as they matched with her hair and fair skin. Of course Lily did all of her clothes shopping. Had she not become a singer she knew that she would surely be working in a shop like Selfridges.

The dress itself was beautiful! Pristine white, long, frills lining the bottom. The top flowed out slightly, so when she moved it was graceful and elegant with but a single bow on the high chest. There was a black ribbon, silken, tied with such care around her neck.

Her hair was down, looking longer than ever, it swayed past her hips and two tendrils rolled down each shoulder, shiny against the plain background. There were little bells attached to bows either side of her head that jingled when she turned her head even slightly. A rose was in her hand, so very strange it was in colour - blue. The petals had flecks of blood on, the same blood that stained her hands.

Lily was thankful, as the blood wasn't hers. They cleaned her hands and found no wound; but if the blood wasn't hers, whose was it? Who had she been with that day and why had they let something like this happen? Where had se been all night and with whom? Where did she get those clothes and where are the ones she had when she'd left?

A maid led Cynthia upstairs to give her a hot bathe, perhaps to try to soothe her shaken body. Lily had never seen her look so shy, so shut in after all Cynthia was an outspoken kind of person. No matter what was on her mind she would tell all the gory details. A trait uncommonly found in this misogynistic day and age.

Lily watched as Nadir paced. She knew he was nervous and worried, but all of this pacing was making her even more so terrified, she could see why her sister disliked his worrying traits so much. Occasionally he'd stop and run his hands through his hair or slump onto a chair or even mumble something to himself. It was a few hours later that Cynthia actually emerged.

All around her eyes were red, sore with crying. Though Lily had never seen her beloved sister cry before, she knew she often did because her eyes would always look sore, sad and stark. Especially when they were younger and Lily was sill coming to terms with her sisters disability. Whenever it was mentioned she'd run away, then later Lily would see her eyes and feel so ashamed for saying anything.

Cynthia emerged from her room, dressed back in her normal attire, however a little lazier than usual. She was wearing a dark purple skirt without a hoop, a light purple collared shirt, untucked without a corset. Her hair was now tied back in a big yellow ribbon. Yet, she still wore that silken black bow around her neck. She padded slowly down the wooden staircase, her feet making soft sounds without her shoes on. She looked tired.

"Cynthia!" Nadir sprung up from his chair, writhing his hands. He seemed to notice the little black bow too and kept his eyes fixed on it as she walked over.

"What happened Ce-Ce?" Asked Lily as she poured more tea and dismissed the maids for the day. Ignoring them both, she sat down, poured her own tea -a skill she had to practice and was determined to get right- then cleared her throat.

"Well..."

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**Find out in the next chapter!**


	8. Chapter 8

**icanhearthedrums only time will tell about Erik's condition.**

**RedDeathLvr, I'm a very cruel person!**

**So, let's find out what happened.**

**Right now.**

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~ "Thank you for meeting me here on such short notice Cynthia." Thanked Erik as she stepped through the door. Her violin was in her right hand as she tried to pretend that she liked being awoken at this hour. She suppressed a mighty yawn and waited until Erik guided her to a chair. It was soft, cushioned in all the right places.

"So, why did you summon me so early on a day when we don't have to work?" She placed her violin down on her lap and kept a hand resting on it rather protectively, "I had hoped to spend today relaxing." Erik took the chair opposite and began to pour some tea, Cynthia could tell what it was from the scent; Earl Grey.

"I want you to play a few pieces for me. Test songs if you wish." Cynthia heard him slide it over to her, there was something slightly different about the aroma of this tea. Usually Earl Grey was sweet-smelling, yet this had a slight hint of must. She brought the steaming hot tea to her lips when something occurred to her.

"Wait a minute, you can play the violin already - why ask me?" She placed the tea back down into the saucer gently, it made a slight clattering noise.

"Yes, however I have not the string talent nor flare to bring this piece to life." He admitted, she could hear a slight smirk in his voice. Around people he was always withdrawn and distant, but with her it was different; She could hear the tone in his voice become more confident and cocky. He was worse than a boy in adolescence.

"You flatter me, however I'm sure your playing would suffice. You are after all a talented musician in many respects and I would rather not spend my day here. It is no insult to you, however me and my sister are due some time off after stressful performances. Therefore, I would respectfully ask to leave, Sir." Cynthia stood from her chair, prepared to leave when she hear the masked man scoff.

"It is of course a great insult to me, Cynthia." Now, he stood too. "We both know why you don't want to be here, it has nary anything to do with that luke-warm sister of yours." The auburn grit her teeth in anger and agitation.

She knew what he meant, the other day that uncontrollable spark between them... Why, oh why had she been so stupid?! Nadir would be so ashamed, so embarrassed and heart-broken if ever he knew. Once again, she sat down, her hands now rested on her lap as they writhed together.

" -" She began, her head hung down as she heard him slumping down in his seat too, taking a sip of tea.

"Erik." He corrected rather than interrupted. Despite the fact she thought such an informal title was inappropriate for work conversation, she continued.

"What happened, what we did was a mistake..." She trailed off, not quite believing it herself.

In that moment they shared when their souls connected, everything seemed so right. So wrong. It was hard to even put into words, it was like it was just them alone in the world with nothing put sweet nothings, promises of love and music to occupy their ears. It made the world so much clearer to them, yet so much more hazed. Their true feeling shone out so bright that the rest of the world was a distant memory, lost in the shadows of their pasts.

They were both so tendered by the scars of the past, their hearts were always bleeding out and wasting away. But when they connected it all changed. Their hearts felt so overcome with happiness and lust that those wounds healed over. For a while, even just a little while the pain dulled. It filled their souls with such a sweet ecstasy they had both been waiting their whole lives for. But it was wrong.

"It wasn't a mistake Cynthia." The Phantom placed his large, warm hand atop hers and slowly enclosed his finger around its gentle palm. He turned it over, tracing little circles on her palm. Rubbing the callouses on her finger tips she had earned from so much playing. He watched as her lips involuntarily began to part as she concentrated on the feeling of his innocent caresses.

"It... It had to be Erik," She used his name so naturally it even shocked her, "what about Nadir? I promised him, I promised him I'd be faithful..." The rage that flooded through him when she said his name made him grip her hand a little too tight. She screamed, "Erik! You're hurting me!" He immediately recoiled and stared at her, scared.

"I'm sorry!" He gasped as she held her hand, he's left quite the red mark, it'd surely bruise. How could he harm such a beautiful and pure creature? He loathed her yet he loved her. She was his devil and his angel, his savior and his darkness, his muse and his represent. He needed to be close to her, yet they were so far away, it was as if sometimes he were in the underworld looking through a fragment of mirror into the heavens.

In that mirror was beauty and splendor in all her glory, all he had to do was place his fingers on the glass. If she did too, the barrier would fall. Then they could be together forever, loving and living 'till death should they part.

But this angel was no pure spirit. This fragment of mirror was shattered by her past, by her loneliness and solitude. The mirror showed himself, an entity like himself living life only as a means to survive rather than a blissful experience. She was too scared to touch the mirror, to break the barrier. Her heart was so tender, a slight change could break it.

Now, her hands shook, her lip quivered and she found herself so flustered. There was no way she could stay. This was all a big mistake, she'd left herself so utterly defenceless and open to his advancements and attacks. He offered comfort but in exchange wanted her heart.

Her hands nervously and shakily wrapped themselves around the tea-cup and Erik watched intensely as she raised the cup to her soft red lips.

"Wait!" He stood up, knocking over his chair but it was already too late - she'd taken a sip.

She wasn't quite sure about what was happening at first. The sounds all around her muffled and became muddles of screeches and bassy sounds. Then her head began to feel light, like when you yawn and stand up to quickly and you feel everything go fuzzy. Though that feeling usually passes, this one did not.

At first she felt the solid grip on her shoulders, but that feeling became a slight buzzing sensation. Her muscles relaxed and she let go of the tea. The tea-cup and all its contents landed with a shatter and a spill along the smooth floor. The world was slowly slipping away and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get back.

Erik watched as her body slid down the chair, unconscious. At first he was worried that he may have slipped a little too much into her tea, so tested her pulse. He was relieved to find it was still strong.

In one big scoop he collected her up into his arms, smiling as he tucked her peacefully sleeping face into his chest. She was usually so sour faced and sceptical looking, it was strange seeing her so at peace. She was so beautiful when she wasn't always building barriers around herself and the outside world.

There was always something about her, something that screamed to leave her alone. But Erik recognised this, he could so empathise with her. She had no idea who he was, who he is and that was how he wanted to keep it. But for now he had preparations.

If he could not earn her love with words, then with actions he would portray his affections for her. He wanted to win her heart, to heal it over and become its other half. He only had to show her how gentle he could be with it.

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**The next two chapters will be very strange.**

**I ask you to be patient.**

**Until next time.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay so here we are at chapter nine. Sorry for the really long delay, I wrote this chapter many times and it just didn't seem right.**

**That and I've been busy.**

**On holiday.**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, I can understand why it may have weirded you out. Thanks for the review.**

**Let's move on then.**

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Cynthia stirred, she felt so strange. There was a strange taste in her mouth and she just felt... different. Her head pulsed with a dull pain, as her senses came back into her she realised just how cold it was. Everything was so confusing.

Usually, she was able to recognise the place by certain sounds or smells, the feel of the air or sometimes even gut instinct. So she could immediately tell that she was someplace air was moist, damp and cold - yet a little warmth radiated from in front and behind.

On shaky legs she stood, realising suddenly that she was wearing different clothes! She shrieked and scanned her hands over her body, it felt clean, covered in silken frills and a velvet ribbon tied with such care and skill around her neck. But who had changed her, who had been so bold as to lay their filthy hands upon her?!

"My angel, you're awake. I was so worried..." Erik's voice called out from behind her, she spun. "I'm sorry if I gave you a fright," This time his voice came from far off in the distance, like an echo in a cave. "I don't mean to scare you." That time he purred seductively into her ear and then she heard music start playing from all around.

It was no orchestra, it was played on a gramophone of some sorts, no- several gramophones all in perfect sync. There must have been a few, for the soft melody that played flowed through every last inch of this cold and echoing place.

That's when she felt a hand on her back, it radiated warmth; It was soft to the touch. She gasped and ran forwards, loosing her footing and nearly tripping over the beautiful dress. Yet, just in the nick of time, two big arms caught her.

The arms turned her over and she sensed someone staring right into her eyes, feeling their hot breath on warm cheek. "It's okay mon ange, it's only me." Cynthia's lip quaked and she was cold with fear.

Fear was not a feeling one who always stands up for themself and their family received on many an occasion. So she panicked. She rolled out of his arms and landed on the cold floor with a slap, she practically jolted up at its icy touch and pointed a finger at Erik accusingly.

"Y-You! Y-you! You changed me!" She screamed, her legs shaking slightly beneath the dress. She heard the masked man sigh and step closer, each time he stepped closer she stepped back. Why was she here, why had he brought her? And worse, what were his intentions?

Erik had to admit, seeing her in her sleeping form, how innocent and helpless she looked stirred those darker corners of his mind that went wild with lust and hunger for flesh. Feelings that all men had locked away inside them. When he changed her into those close, he couldn't deny that he took much pleasure in it.

He never looked, dear God she'd never forgive him. During the entirety of the delicate operation he had a blindfold on and started with a pair of gloves. However, with the gloves it was difficult to feel the different material so... well...

Now he felt guilty, for sometimes when his hand brushed her skin- he'd let it linger longer than it really should have. Sometimes, he'd make small caresses over her thinking it was to test her breathing or her heart rate. He was only lying to himself.

"I can assure you Cynthia, I did not look. I am skilled with my hands." Soon, her back met a wall, rocky like a cave and freezing to the touch.

"Th-that's what you would say! You fiend! You monstrosity!" She yelled, amazed by the sound of her voice in this cave like structure. Fear quaked her voice and lent it strength. The Phantom was a little abacked by her behaviour and walked over to her slowly, as she squirmed against the wall, trying to see if she could get any further away. To no avail.

When he reached her, he tugged her delicate wrist and wrapped his arm around her waist. "E-Erik, let me go!" She struggled in his grasp, squirming.

"Shh," He cooed in her ear, "don't struggle my angel, I'd never hurt you..." Voice as soft as velvet, angelic and soothing on the body like a hot scented bath."Be calm Mon Ange." Almost immediately, her shoulders stopped tensing, her stance became more relaxed and her gaze settled to his eyes. She could sense them, burning into hers.

"Erik, why have you brought me here?" She asked now with no fear in her voice, feeling safe in his arms and reassured by his voice tuned by the heavens.

"I have a question to ask you..." He began but then proceeded to trail off and begin another point, "But not right now my love." The music seemed to grow and grow louder until it filled the entire room, emerging from the background. She felt him holding her hand in his, giving it a chaste kiss that lingered longer than usual.

"May I have this dance Mademoiselle?" There was a flirtatious tone in his velvet voice as he guided her to a more open space. She wasn't sure quite why she was following him, letting him lead her wherever he wished- it was as if she was in a trance. She only snapped out of it when he firmly placed his hand on her waist, gripping a little too tight for comfort.

"Ouch! Erik! Stop! Stop this!" She yelled, he went white as a sheet, wondering what he had done wrong. He did everything that was in those romance novels, he was polite and dark and mysterious, he'd practiced dancing for hours on his own with mannequin and even listened to the bumbling rambles of the chattier girls in the orchestra. Why was she resisting him?

He only wished now that he actually was Don Juan, charming and wooing ever girl in a twenty-mile radius. But he doubted that even one with talented a tounge as Don Juan could ever woo her. She had a heart of stone that would take more than a few cheap clichés to break But it would be his.

"i'm sorry, i'm doing this all wrong. I apologise." Pulling away, he re-adjusted is mask and watched as she rubbed her waist where he'd held her.

"Not at all, you were just gripping a little too tight." For the first time he'd ever known her, she smiled sweetly. It wasn't sarcastic, mean, fake or even casual- it was a genuine sweet smile with all the beauty of the world in each and every muscle. He stared at her for a while, just her and that smile and whispered,

"Perfect..."

Cocking her head slightly, she blushed. What had he just called her, 'Perfect'? If anything, she was far from perfect, she had so many faults - her sight impairment or lack of sight one of them. But he was so perfect, blissful voice, wise, talented, so muscular- he must have been young too and handsome, she bet he was really handsome.

In fact, she was curious to how he looked - there were rumours he wore a mask but for what reason? Once again, she moved into him. She took his hand and pulled it up to her waist, holding the other and started moving to a rhythm. At first he was shocked and aghast, she had hardly ever made a move upon him...

They danced for a while, her empty eyes staring up at him, his big amber ones blazing down into her gaze that would never meet his. He could feel the warmth of her body radiating out and it made his cheeks flush. Which he noticed, was happening to her too.

Soon, the music began to slow and their bodies were gradually moving closer and closer until eventually their chests breathed and beated against each other. He made little caresses through the material of her silk dress that made her cheeks go even pinker than usual. Now, she had her eyes closed enjoying their moment together.

A moment of sweet, innocent, uninterrupted bliss. Something that many don't receive in a life time. That's when Erik decided to speak up.

"I can make every day like this mon ange." He whispered gently in her ear, she in turn quivered at his warm breath against her skin. "I can fill each day with music and beauty, love and happiness." Cynthia's heart stopped.

Would he really do all that for her, or were they just empty promises; an attempt of wooing her? But his words sounded so sincere, so truthful. She wanted to believe him, how she wis she could. There was however a catch- anyone could sense it. As she soon found out.

She felt Erik pull away from her, his body heat leaving hers- turning her heart a little cold. Alas, she wasn't sure what she wanted back, him, or the warmth. Both perhaps? As he moved away, he kept hold of her left hand, she could sense his body moving downwards, like he was kneeling. Then he said the words she could never scrape from her troubled and worn mind.

"Marry me." He said, outright and with no regret. Cynthia gasped and tried to pull away, tried to run but to where, to whom? He'd find er and bring her back, order her to marry him again. Still, there was something attractive about the offer.

She tugged her hand away, turning her back to him, her auburn hair swaying from side to side as she looked down to the floor writhing her soft hands.

"Was that a question, Mr Destler? Or an order?" Snapped the woman, as cynical and bitter as ever. Behind her, she heard him standing up once again- about to walk over. "Answer me!" She yelled, now with no regret.

"It is what you wish, an order or question. I know you will say yes. You cannot deny your feelings any longer, everyone sees, everyone knows. Most of all me. You cannot fight was is there, clear as day in that cold heart of yours Cynthia!" He grabbed her wrist from behind and spun her around to face him. "You're killing me Cynthia! I'm dying here alone in the dark, drowning and you are too! Give yourself something to grasp on to, find a way t-"

To his great shock, she pressed her lips against his, harshly, tight and rough - as one would expect such a feisty creature to kiss. He pulled her in closer and once again the warmth that she so longed for was pressed against her body. Giving her life and lighting her soul on fire. This was what she needed.

There was however, one thing that was bothering her... That mask. Whilst she was kissing him, it pressed harshly against her cheek, threatening to cut it should they carry on. She didn't even understand why he wore it.

So she slid it off.

Once again, she pressed her lips against his and noticed something strange. The right side of his lip was upturned, almost like it had been stitched to his nose- but as she moved her face, she felt no nose. He had no nose!

He screamed, furious, when she stroked her hand down his deformity, feeling the lumps and bumps on his cheek as rough as sandstone. Feeling the depth of his eye sockets, like his eye had been sunken into his skull. Bile rose in her throat as she pulled away. What kind of creature was he? No man felt like that, he wasn't a he, he was an it!

"Y-you're not human!" She screamed, pointing a finger where he stood putting his mask back on. "YOU'RE A MONSTER!"

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**Sorry for the slow update.**

**Business as usual from now on.**

**Please, if you can, take the time to review.**

**That's all I ask of you.**


	10. Chapter 10

**anc3210, okay, okay. Here you go.**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, well she was going to find out sooner or later and let's be honest any sane woman would react like this.**

**RedDeathLvr indeed she did. Indeed I shall update.**

**Why, thank you for the review! Well, none of us are perfect and sometimes we always want what we can't have. Thanks.**

**Once again a little late, but this time of year is busy, busy, busy for me.**

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Erik moved cautiously over to the crying and shuddering girl who tore off his mask. Fury bubbled up inside him as he heard her mutterings of insults and horrors. She was terrified of him. Even she fled from his face when she couldn't see its true distortion. He clenched a fist angrily and grabbed her arm.

"You cannot deny me now! You were mine! You are mine! You play for me!" He yelled into her beautifully pale features as she pounded her puny fists against his cest, baring her teeth at him. His vice-grip loosened and she backed as far away as she could.

Face contorted in fear, her heart pounding in her ears she whimpered. There was no where she could go, even if she was blessed with sight, she doubted that she would be able to see the light out of this darkness. There was no way out, no escape from the monster who lured her here against her will.

If he had drugged her before, what if he did it again? What if he did it already whilst she was asleep?! It made her feel sick even just thinking about it, as her hands ran over her body, looking for some tell-tale sign.

Erik watched of course, reading her face - her squirming. Then his gaze softened. How could she possibly think that e would do such a thing? Surely she knew that he wasn't the sort of man to take advantage of her like that, whilst she was asleep? But she was so vulnerable...

But no, he restrained himself. He did, because what he felt for her, wat he feels for her is stronger than lust or a need for flesh and intimacy. A feeling so strong it cannot be contained. It comes uncontrolled and unwarned, need I even say what it is?

He began grinding his teeth at the knowledge that even after all of this time, after everything they had done she didn't understand this. Even after he gave her his heart she still didn't trust him. That woman, that demon, that fiend who strings men along! It rattled him to his very core.

Anger crossed him and he had to turn away from her shuddering and disgusted form to calm himself. Soon the heat that blazed his vision began to fade, all the anger and heat and fury lifted away. Inhaling, exhaling.

But he was too late to hear the petite and deadly silent foot steps that approached from behind. The masked terror was too slow to react and block the crushing force that shook his entire skull.

Something solid collided with the side of his head, mist clouded his vision. It stung for a few seconds, rattling his genius brain around his skull. Now his head felt heavy and knocked him off-balance, so he fell to the ground with a thump. All he could hear now was a slight, high pitch whining.

Unable to move, he stared straight ahead with a blurry vision. Staring right at the curtain that led out into the mysterious and intricate alleyways of the London slums. A figure moved ahead of him.

They were small, well-shaped and skinny too - it seemed familiar. Something dropped in front of him. It was jaggedly round, a greyish colour that gleamed and glistened on the top with something red. But he found that soon it was hard to keep his eyes open. In fact, he couldn't remember why he had them open in the first place.

That beautiful little figure disappeared behind the curtain and everything went black.

* * *

Lily sat, her sisters weary and worried head on her lap as her unseeing eyes stared into the fire ahead of her. Nadir sat silently, not sure what to say, how to feel or react. He'd never heard of such a thing in his life. But his friend was out there somewhere, unconscious perhaps even dead.

"What if I've killed him?" Cynthia asked, void of any emotion. Her usually bright blue eyes stared off into space dully into the flames that she couldn't see, but feel and hear crackling away. Erik told her how beautiful they were sometimes.

"He's tougher than you think Cynthia. You are not to blame here my dear." Said the Persian as he walked over, kneeling beside her and clasping her delicate hand in his. But she shot him a glare that stung his heart. It was so dark, like how a lioness would glare at her prey before an attack.

So he slowly withdrew his hands and her head turned back towards the fire that now was barely alive. It only occasionally crackled and popped. Lily teased her sisters auburn hair through her fingers, worried sick for not only her sisters fate but for the man whom she had admired for some time. He couldn't truly be so hideous, could he?

But it wasn't like her sister to over-react or be melodramatic about anything. That's when there came a knock to the door that made everyone's heart stop cold and dead. They hoped that who ever it was would go away. So they waited and waited.

Each second passed like an hour, then there was another knock. Nadir sprang up, Lily shook her head but was too late to interject. The Persian answered the door to a very concerned looking chorus member.

He vaguely remembered her. There was nothing particularly noticable, only sandy blonde hair that was too curly to be tied back so was cut short and dull brown eyes with no sparkle. Even her voice was average. But she had seen Erik pulling himself into the Opera house, blood pouring from his head.

They said that he had passed out in Nadirs office but all the chorus members were too scared to even dare edge near him. So the Persian threw on his coat and ran, without biding farewell to the sisters. He supposed that he should let them grieve, let them recover.

After all, Cynthia had had quite the shock and after that little stunt by Erik, the odds were back in his favor.

* * *

**Oh dear Erik?**

**What has the nasty woman done to you?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Anyway, sorry for all of these slow reviews.**

**I really apologise.**

**Seriously.**

* * *

Erik blinked as he stared up at the whites of the ceiling. The light was piercing on his tired eyes; the trauma to his head now only a dull ache. Nadir had left his domain a while ago, probably to go spend time with her.

Achingly, he lolled onto his side. Wincing slightly with the effort, he reached across to grab a book. Though his eyes scanned over the words he could only pick out certain words, little phrases as images flashed in his mind. 'Red, anger, lust, revenge.'

Red, anger, lust, revenge. Red, anger, lust, revenge. Red, anger, lust, revenge. Dazed, he kept scanning over those words repeating them over and over in his head. It soon became as rich and as soothing as a melody. The feeling to compose was strong and he was already creating the music in his mind.

So with throbbing limbs, he dragged himself to his piano and began his scribblings. Sheet after sheet, after sheet of music until he had it perfect. It had to be if he was going to present it to her.

* * *

Rain pitter pattered along the roof, the smell of tea was lingering in the air. The fire next to the two was crackling away, fighting away the cold from the lashing rain outside. The occasional thunder strike shook the room and made Cynthia gasp a little. She never was fond of surprises.

Nadir sat opposite her. She hadn't been looking very good for a few days but at least now she had some colour in those porcelain cheeks. All of that rough confidence and strict demeanor was gone though. No sitting tall, no high head or deliberate movements - if anything she was very clumsy.

But she seemed to be eating again at least, she was so in shock about it all Lily said she had locked herself in her room and stayed under her covers. It was so strange that someone like her could turn so shy and shut in. Then again, anyone with a face as hideous as Erik's...

"Nadir?" Cynthia called out. It appeared he'd been staring into space for some time, so long she was stood up and holding a tray in her hands.

"Oh, yes?" He adjusted himself in his chair as he snapped his way back into reality, examining her. The tray she was holding was rather fancy. It was a silver dinner tray, littered with cute little cakes. Polished to a gleam i her hands as she presented him with them.

Now this was awfully strange. Anyone with maids would get the maid to get them, especially Cynthia. She was just to proud and made of finer stuff to drag herself down to catering or manual labor. Even her eyes and her smile was shy now.

"Cynthia..." The Persians voice trailed off as he looked at her, now able t see the tears in the corners of her eyes. SHe was welling up. Eventually a tear fell, then two, then a stream and she had to turn away.

Quickly, he moved over to her, arms open and ready to console. Yet, when he neared she pulled away. Soon she was edging so far away he feared she may tip over the back of the sofa.

"Just...Just go Nadir. Y-You have been awfully kind, too kind. But I can not stay in your presence knowing that I broke your heart." She sniffled through her words. "knowing that I broke your heart because of that... that... that monster!" He sighed sympathetically.

"Nothing breaks my heart more than seeing you like this." Stated he as he pulled a handkerchief from his velvet lined pocket; pressing it to her tears, catching them before they fell. Eventually her fretting and crying ceased. She moved closer to him, edging closer and closer every moment.

Nadir watched her, seeing a glint of he confidence coming back into light. That's when he felt her skinny little arms wrapping around him, closing and locking behind his back. Hesitantly, she rested her head on his chest.

For a while she sat there, just listening to the beat of his heart. For a while he sat there, just feeling the warmth of her body against hers. And they couldn't imagine anything more soothing. It was a moment of sweet and friendly bliss.

But that's all it would ever be,just friendly. No matter what Erik did to her, Nadir always and should have known that he was only good enough to be friends and it broke his heart even more. Until... Until it happened.

Raising up shakily, she pressed her lips against his. Her face was all a flush, as was his. It was long and sweet, unlike Erik's which were hungry and lustful. In a way it disappointed - yet confused her. After all, she didn't really think of herself as the type to lust after something.

When she pulled away Nadir smiled. He closed his eyes and savoured the taste of her red lipstick on his lips for a little while as she leant against his chest again. He knew that he had to be places, be anywhere but here - preparing for the ball tomorrow night. But he was so glad he had come.

Because he'd won, he'd finally won!

* * *

Erik watched, with his hood up over his face. Watched as that monster he had once considered a friend held the devil woman in his arms. She was a little vixen. She would squeeze all the life she wanted out of one man, take all of their love and then slip away with their heart.

And him! Kicking him whilst he was down and weak! How dare he go after her, how dare he hold and console her like this as he stood outside. He would pay for such a bold display!

Gripping the music sheet in his sodden hand he roared with the thunder. In a moment of madness he tore it up. Shoulders heaving and breath heavy.

"Oh... no... no, no, no!" He dropped on his hands and knees, scrabbling around in the boggy mud for the scraps of paper that was once a beautiful piece for a beautiful woman. It was to no avail of course, even though he had the pieces they were too wet. He hadn't another copy either.

As he stood, he wiped some of the mud from his eye with his soaken coat sleeve. Only to spot something through the window he hadn't seen before. Lily, sat hiding behind the grand staircase, her eyes red.

He tilted his head sympathetically, she'd been crying. Her clothes looked freshly pressed, her hair and make-up had much attention taken to it. Poor, poor girl, so naïve. All along she must have thought that these little visits from Nadir were secretly because he had a fancy for her. She certainly had a fancy for him.

The two of them, that devil and that man would pay! It would have been a misfortune to break his heart, but to break his and Lily's?! That was an out right sin! Admittedly, he had never been much of a religious man, but lots of things have changed since then.

The Phantom took out a long piece of rope from his belt, looking down at it for a long while before back up to the happy couple inside. Swinging and feeling the weight of his old friend in his hand, he smirked.

"Now let it be war, upon you both."

* * *

**Do apologise for the long update.**

**Hey, but at least I updated.**

**I do so miss all of your splendid reviews.**

**That is if many of you stopped reading because of the gaps.**

**Once again, sorry.**

**Thanks.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Angels wings, erm...thanks. I really like your review, but I'm not finished. I just take forever to update; I'm lazy.**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, sorry for the slow update again. Well, there will be a little more fluff. I haven't decided quite how the rest of this plot will go however I have a big and shocking ending in mind. Watch out for that.**

**Nikki15DesertRose thanks for the review. I always aim to keep my readers interested, despite the slow updates.**

**RedDeathLvr, nice to know that there is still readers! Thanks for the review. We'll just have to wait and see how Erik's anger affects the story.**

**Sorry for the slow updates, I'm lazy. :)**

* * *

Nadir sat in his office. Listening as the catering staff were cooking and setting up the food for the masquerade ball later that night. But as he gripped his pen and stared down at the accounts for a tenth time, he sighed; perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all.

He untucked his chair swiftly, having given up on work for the evening, ans pulled on his coat. The rain still hadn't ceased. So he tipped on his hat, stooping it over his eyes and hailing carriage. After shaking off his sodden coat, he stepped in.

Listening to the rattlings of the carriage against the cobbled streets, the lashing of the rain and the drivers rather out of tune whistling his mind opened. Erik hadn't been home in days. His room was barren.

Nadir wondered how he got the organ out without any of his house staff noticing... Alas, he shook his head in defeat. His friend was quite the puzzle, a very warped puzzle with many pieces missing. That is if he has all of his pieces in the first place.

Indeed, Erik had done bad things. If he had told Cynthia about the incident at the Opera Populaire nearly a year ago then perhaps she would have stayed away? Yet, he himself had done a lot of handy work like Erik's.

Though he didn't join in with the entire 'Punjab lasso' fad that was going on, he still had his own little 'trade mark'. For a long time he'd trained as an assassin in Japan, came to obtain a 'Katana'.

How it set his soul alight thinking of his old team-mate, he grinned to himself as he stare out of the window. But as the carriage stopped, she set into sight, almost angelic.

Her red hair ran in tendrils down her exquisite frame. The mask on her face covered only around her bright, pale eyes. Her dress was a raven black. Her pale skin was glowing.

Nadir stared at her, opening the carriage door. With a pout and a sigh she waited; Nadir just stared.

"Nadir,if you insist on looking at me in such a way then I shall gladly share the next carriage with a group of flee ridden mongrels." Irritability was evident in her voice. So he cleared his throat and ran over to her, wrapping his coat over her shoulders and guiding her in.

In one, swift, movement she let down her parasol and sat down. The Persian sat next to her, snug to keep her warm. She moved closer to him and linked his arm for extra warm. It was mighty cold outside.

"You look stunning tonight, my dear." Smiled the Daroga and he have her gloved hand a squeeze. Her reply was a pleasant giggle, followed by a warm peck on the cheek.

"I'm sure you look the same too, darling." Her smiled was the sweetest honey, so very rare too. Especially these days.

"Well, I'm not in my costume yet, lovely." He gave a slight laugh as she looked a little embarrassed at her comment now. Soon enough they were there, opening the carriage doors yet again and bracing the cold.

Cynthia popped up her parasol and shared it with her suitor. They splattered their way through the puddles and laughed as Nadir shouted 'Jump!' to get over the deeper ones. But they eventually made it to the top of the steps.

She giggled as she took down her parasol, catching her breath as Nadir shook a little rain from his hair and beard. Then, he pulled her in. Resting her hands on his chest she looked up at him with a slight smile. He kissed her.

Little did they know of the villain who lay lurking in the corner. Sat in the shadows with lasso at the ready. Like a tiger in the grass waiting for its prey to dare come closer so that he could make chase. That's when the music started.

Nadir lead his maiden to the ball room. The catering staff had done a fantastic job. Elegant music drifted nicely through the hall, everyone was dancing and being merry. Champagne,wine and food was being handed out left right and center. Just as he had planned.

But he still wasn't in costume. So, laying a kiss on her hand, apologised for his absence and rushed off to his office. Running down the hall, taking a sharp left, then a right, crossing the hall diagonally untill he reached his destination. Firmly, he wrapped his hand around the door knob, giving it a strong push.

Suddenly, something tightened around his neck. He tried to kick-scream... No noise came. He felt hot, heavy breathing against his ear, struggled.

But soon his lungs burned and stung, hands went cold. The pressure in his head was intense. So he let himself go, flopping to the floor in a tired and asphyxiated heap. Gone.

The culprit pushed his limp body into the office, carrying him and sitting him upright in his chair. That would teach him, maybe teach her too. Teach her that it's bad to sleep around.

* * *

"Cynthia! Cynthia darling!" Lily ran over, bright and bubbly. Erik cursed from the shadows, she had to interfere just as he was about step in a sweep her away! But at least she wouldn't have to worry about Nadir anymore.

"Oh, hello Lily." Cynthia greeted her beloved sister with a gracious smile, trying to listen out over all the commotion for her sweetheart Nadir. "Have you seen Nadir-"

Her sister grabbed her by her arm and lead her into the party, full of dancing, smiling people. Erik smiled, this was his chance.

"Lily? What are you doing?! Where am I?! This is not in the least bit humorous!" Someone gripped her shoulder from behind and spun her around. They put her hand in theirs and started dancing. They were unfamiliar at the touch.

"Good evening." She calmed at their voice, it was the cello player. One of her distant friends, but a friend at least. He was a pleasant man, not the most pleasantly aromatic but she knew that he wouldn't drug her and kidnap her.

"Time to switch partners." She heard a little glee in his voice. But how could he be so happy-go-lucky about it?! She could end up with anyone, even him.

And surely enough, she did.

* * *

**Yes, well thankyou for reading**

**Sorry for the slow update,**

**as per usual.**

**Review, anyone?**


	13. Chapter 13

**RedDeathLvr, we'll have to wait and see! ;)**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, thanks for the review! I do apologise for the long gaps in updates. I'm lazy. That's really my only excuse now. **

**I know, I'm updating so soon! Shocker!**

* * *

"Good evening my angel." his grip on her was immediately tight. It was a grip that assured her she wouldn't be able to slip away again. Cold panic flooded her, so much that she couldn't even catch the air to scream.

A few heads turned, surprised to see him after his disappearance for the last few months, but not enough to notice the terrified girl in his grasp. She was so trapped. She needed to breathe.

"Shh, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to protect you, someone is looking for you, they want to hurt you."

"I know!" She yelled, "I'm looking right at him!" Attention was immediately turned to the woman struggling in his grasp. So he dragged them into the shadows, a place he worked best.

People now started to pay a little more attention. More heads turned until practically every eye was looking for them in the shadows. A few even drew weapons in case of a fight. But they were only for show, costume props if you like.

"Come back!" Some of the attendees at the party shouted and began to run towards them. Erik pressed a tile on the wall behind them and with a slight click and strange spinning sensation- they were out of sight.

"What was that?!" She screamed, the air here was colder. Music and chatting and laughing could no longer be heard- instead there was a creepy, eerie silence that was accompanied by a sickly _drip, drip, drip._

"We're safe now my love." A cold, heavy hand could be felt on her back, another on her legs. Swiftly, he picked her up bridal style and held her close. "I don't want you to ruin that lovely dress." Despite her lack of vision, she could feel warmth radiating off that deformed smile.

"Erik, put me down! Right this instant!" Despite her screams and claws at his face, he carried on. Dragging his legs through the water below making splashing noises as she went.

His movements got slower and stiffer as he waded through waist deep water. Hoisted up from even there, she could feel the cold of the water. What in Gods name was he doing?!

"Erik, stop! Please, you're scaring me now!" Despite her resistance and hatred towards him, she clung to him for dear life. If he dropped her now she'd surely drown.

"Don't worry, you'll be safe soon. I wont let anyone harm you." Was all he said as he carried on his absurd venture deeper into the watery abyss. Even as the water got neck-deep he used his strong arms to keep her dry. He would hate her to catch a cold.

" Mr. Destler!" She screamed as they began emerging from the water once more. Gently, he placed her down onto dry land. " , I demand you tell me what is going on right this instant!" But the drenched man ignored her.

For a second he placed a sodden hand on her shoulder, then seemingly changing his mind walked on.

"Tea? My dear?" Upon hearing him so relaxed and taking a seat down she furrowed her brows. "Hot and sweet?"

"When I hit you over the head, did all your sense, reasoning and sanity fall out Erik?!" She shouted at him and stomped her foot. Pouting and crossing her arms like a spoilt child.

As he stared at her, he tried not to laugh. But that sight was just too adorable, so he let out a chuckle. "Hmph." Her face went red as she mixed anger with embarrassment. "I want to leave now. I have no time for surprise kidnaps and tea parties with... you."

"Is it my face?" He asked bluntly, now fed up of the conversational maze of witty insults, small talk and demands. But she couldn't answer. Was it rude to call him a beast? Well, indeed he had kidnapped her, but it wasn't as if his face had told him to do it; that would just be silly.

"I..." Trying to put together an answer in her head, her face softened. An impatient growl emitted from her captor.

"I can't help it you know. It's not as if I chose to look like this Cynthia." Her heart went cold a little, she felt disappointed. Mostly disappointed at herself. All of those things she had said about him, she really wasn't thinking.

"I was born like this. That was it, no handsome or adventure filled tales. These aren't war scars, burn marks- I was just born to look like the devil." Cynthia opened her mouth to object to that statement. Yet something stopped her...she knew it was true.

"She disowned me, you know? My mother." The auburn turned her head down to the ground. She wasn't sure if she wanted to hear this. "I loved her so much... But she locked me in that attic, that..." It was as if he was straining, straining through all of those horrible memories.

"That BLOODY ATTIC!" His pained shout echoed through the place. Whimpering slightly, he dragged on. He was trying to explain, trying to at least get her to understand. "It was no place for a child, no place for a human or animal."

Cynthia felt herself shaking at his profound and sudden opening. It scared her to finally find out the secrets to his life, the reality behind the mask and the voice.

"What was it like?" Her tiny voice battled shakily against the silence that quelled her not to dare say a word. And that silence remained, for a little while. Before he finally caught his breath, caught his breath long enough to ask her to take a seat.

He revealed all to her. She stayed quiet, nodding, listening and accepting the tea that came from a seemingly bottomless pot. Or at least it seemed that way. For this conversation went on for a while, a very long while.

* * *

**Thank you for enduring my laziness.**

**I will try to get back to regular business and such.**

**I will try my hardest.**

**Please, if you so can, update.**

**I do so love your feedback.**

**Also, don't be scared to criticise. The whole point in putting my work out there is so I can improve and aspire to be better. And stuff.**

**Thanks.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you for all of your kind words and moral support.**

**Seriously guys, it's awesome.**

**RedDeathLvr, perhaps she will. Also, don't fear. I intend to make this chapter longer.**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, it is nice to get some lengthy feedback, thanks. It is also nice to know that my work contains believable dialogue. Well we're not quite sure about Nadir's... condition. Yet.**

**And so it continues.**

* * *

"Mama?" The boy rubbed his tired eyes as she opened the door just a crack. "When will I get to play with the other children outside?" He picked up the tattered a ragged cloth toy, clutching it in his tiny hands.

"You can't Erik! You never will be, so stop these silly dreams and eat your dinner. The doctor will be here soon." His mother slammed the door. From the other side he could hear click after click after click as each lock was secured into place.

It confused him as to why she always locked the doors. Maybe it was to stop the bad people getting in. He had heard about the bad people, some of the children who played in the fields would talk about them. Like pirates and knights and witches and monsters.

Everyday he would sit, cross-legged on the floor. After finding a spot that was comfortable, he'd pull back a little strip of wood and peek through the hole in the wall. The other children were having fun.

In his own way, he supposed he did- just watching them. Often when they played games like hide and seek he would look across the fields and think of a hiding place. Then, if no one looked there he would smile to himself. In his own head, he'd won.

Mother would always bring these strange men into the house. Sometimes, they would climb up the stairs and come to his room. They always stared at him funny, like they were shocked. Hadn't they ever seen a little boy before?

Some of them would come very close, touch his face and his hands. Many prodded and poked him. Then he would hear them from downstairs saying things like 'it's beyond repair.' or 'I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do.'

Then mother would cry. Mother cried allot. At first, he thought that was just what people did every now and again. Lots of the children outside would cry if they tripped or if the other children said nasty things about them. Yet Mother was different, she would cry every night.

So he would cuddle up in a little ball on his blanket, careful not to move so he wouldn't cut himself like he often did in his room, and fall asleep. Aggy was the only person he could talk to, his toy. Sometimes Aggy would talk back, but only when he was sleeping.

But then one day, the men came. Men all dressed in black who held crosses in their hands. Some of them had big, tall, funny hats. He saw them coming through the little hole in the wall.

"Come on Erik. Come out and see the nice gentlemen." His Mother cooed him from his room in a sweet and gentle voice. But she only used that voice when the men came to prod and poke him. So he shook his head.

He could see already that Mother was getting angry. Her hair had gotten all wiry recently, her usually soft skin was dry and she was getting thinner everyday. He was worried she might be getting sick. So he did as she said, eventually and slowly stepped out of his room.

She nudged his back as he tried to quickly step down the long staircase. It was hard, he had to leap because he had such little legs. It wasn't often that he went down them either.

She grabbed his hand, a little too tightly, yanking him into the dining room. There were candles lit in a circle around the table, wax dripping off them and onto the floor. They had been lit for a long time. There was also a big, white circle around connecting all the candles.

Erik had seen the children who played outside using it to draw little numbers in squares and jump on them. Maybe this was a game. A game that Mother and the men with the black clothes and funny hats wanted to play. But it looked different to the games that the children through the hole played.

When he stood on his tip toes, he could see a little of the surface of the table. There were bits of rope and crosses on them. As well as big, thick, leather-bound books that Mother would often throw into his room to stop him crying when he was younger. Maybe they were here to read him a story?!

All of the men were stood around in a circle, their hands nearly touching. Mother picked him up under his arms and hoisted him onto the table. A few of the men stepped forward, giving him the same look that everyone did and then started to take off his shoes.

Then they took off his socks, his shirt, his trousers, everything. Until he was left shivering, cold and confused on the table. Rain started to pour outside, tapping harshly against the windows. Erik looked over to his mother confused, who looked down at the floor and then left the room.

One of the men with the funny hats grabbed his wrist. He took the rope on the table and wrapped it around and it hurt.

"Ouch!" Cried the young boy. "Ow please stop! It hurts!" But no one seemed to be listening, in fact they pushed him down onto the table and tied the second down. Then, they tied down his ankles.

"Why can't I move?!" Cried Erik as he struggled against the restraints. The men all went back into their circle. A man, all dressed in black and with the tallest hat stepped forwards. He held a cross in his hand, an open book in the other and started speaking nonsensical words over and over again.

Erik started to get scared, he struggle and struggled. Crying out for his Mother who never came, she never did and never would. They tossed cold water over him, forced him to drink it, talking of purification. But in this position he could barley swallow it.

Instead he choked and coughed and struggled to breathe as they began to shout and speak louder. Smoke filled the room. It clouded his vision and made it almost impossible to breath. They all shouted the same thing. Speaking in languages he couldn't understand.

The storm raged on. It mixed with their voices and Erik's contorted and agonising screams as they poured more freezing water over his small and tired body. He wanted Aggy. Aggy could make them all go away. He just wanted to be back in his room.

The candles went out. They were finally finished. Erik's cold body shivered and they untied him, carrying him backup the stairs to his attic, tossing him onto the floor cutting his body on the nails that stuck out of the poorly kept pieces of wood that held the house together.

With as much strength as he could muster, he dragged himself to his blanket. There was a leak in the roof. Water dripped down onto his blanket, onto Aggy. There was a pool of it. The darkness obstructed his vision, but there was something strange in the water. It was a face that wasn't quite... human.

So he dragged his wet, bruised and tired, naked body to the loose piece of wood near the hole and pulled it away. Moonlight shone right onto the little pool of water. He looked into the water.

His eyes widened, heart beat quickened and all the questions were answered. As he fell into a heap and fainted. Fainted at the sight of his own disgusting and contorted face.

The next morning, he woke with a saddened expression. For now he knew the truth, he knew what he was, why people looked at him funny. He was a monster. He looked around the attic- the door was open. But mother would always lock it...

He wrapped the blanket around him, it was still damp. After picking up Aggy he edged carefully to the door, it was quiet. Even outside no children played or stirred. The storm had passed but there was still no sign of life.

He walked carefully down the steps. This time he wasn't being rushed. Yet there was a feeling in his gut that he should. So putting one tiny foot in front of the other, he stumbled down the stairs.

But he forgot his rhythm and tripped. He tumbled down the stairs, hitting his head, back, leg, arm, back, head, foot, arm ,head, back, leg. Until it stopped. His vision was all blurry, but he could still make out the figure of his mother. He crawled towards her slowly.

"Mama. Mama?" He called out, putting his arms out in front of him until he found her arm. It was icy to the touch.

As his vision came back to settle, he looked up. Her skin was pale. Lips were blue. There was a dribble of red from the corner of her mouth, in little flecks down her dress. In her hand, barely being held in her finger tips was a bottle.

Erik took a look at it, reading along the side of it was four letters, 'L.Y.E.'. He held back tears in his eyes. No, she couldn't be, she couldn't! He shook her arm, nudged her, screamed her name. There was no response. She was dead.

* * *

Cynthia gripped his hand. Erik handed her a handkerchief to dry her tearful eyes. "There's no need to cry." He tried to calm her, soothe her. But it was to no avail.

"There is every need!" She whined, sniffling. "You were treated so poorly, because of your face. Your Mother... your poor Mother..." Pain crossed her features as she stared down at the ground. "I treated you just as bad, I hurt you..."

He pressed his hand against her cheek and lifted her head, gazing into her eyes.

"You did no such thing. You are nothing like my mother, you are so much kinder." But tears still fell from her.

"I'm sorry!" She bellowed tearfully, wrapping her arms around him tightly. "I'm sorry!" He rubbed her back to soothe her until she fell asleep in a fit of crying.

As gently as he could, he placed her into his bed. Removing her shoes and tucking her in. He surrounded her in comfort and supported her tired head with pillows. Then looked to the table that sat beside and picked up the finely made, cloth monkey.

He placed a little kiss upon it and then tucked it into her arms.

"It's time to protect someone else...Aggy."

* * *

**Yep, so the usual. Review and stuff.**

**I'll update soon.**

**Peace.**


	15. Chapter 15

**thegeyerguesthoouse, thank you for the wonderful review. I can always rely on you for fantastic feedback. You really flatter me. **

**This is going to be a little filler. Because I think the plot needs to slow a little.**

**So anyway, let's carry on and stuff.**

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Cynthia woke, feeling silk all around her. She believed she had never been so comfortable in her entire life. Gentle and soothing music drifted through the room. She sensed that it was cold outside her fort of comfort, so instead called out.

"Erik?" She was surprised at how weak her voice sounded, it cracked from lack of use. So she cleared it, but before she could call out again a finger pressed against her lips.

"Shhhh." Erik whispered in a hushed tone. Slowly, he took away his hushing finger from her rosen lips. Once again she opened her mouth to speak and he had to stop her. "Please, don't speak. Your voice is swollen."

Cynthia looked at him oddly, cocking her head; nonetheless obeying his wish. "If you want it to get better rather than worse, you'll do your best not to use it and let it recover. Okay?"

She sighed in disbelief but went along with charade. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, about last night- she supposed they could wait. She felt his warm hand wrap around hers and tug gently.

So she let him lead her out of bed and felt as her feet padded along the cold but surprisingly smooth and clean feeling ground. They walked for a couple of seconds until he let go of her hand. Listening to him walking away for a few seconds and then coming back with something that clicked and clacked in his hands.

She sensed him getting smaller, kneeling? Then he picked up her foot and slid it into the shoe. At this, she frowned.

"I am capable of putting my own shoes on, you know? Just because i'm-" Her short rant was interrupted by his chuckle as he slid on the second shoe.

"Yes, I am very aware." Now he stood, towering over her, "However I wanted to." his hand brushed her cheek and she gasped, she had never anticipated the contact. "People have given me many names Cynthia."

"Devil, angel, father, murderer, beast...Phantom." She nodded sadly, moving into his touch. " But before you, I am none of these. I am a mere man, a servant before your pureness. And your evil." Her brows furrowed and she went to shout in protest.

However this time there was no time to bring up his hand and silence her with his hand. So he kissed her. He felt her warm lips and the way they spasmed slightly in shock, gradually relaxing and welcoming him. Eventually, it had to end.

"If you had let me continue with my point, your evil is your way with men. Your way with me." Cynthia stood, dumbstruck. She was hardly even listening to his words. No man had ever spoken to her like this,dared to call her 'evil', even dared to insult her and her wicked tongue.

Yet here he stood, a man with no more options- a man so hideous that no woman could ever love him and he dared to stand up to her. He made her furious! He toyed with her and messed around with her head! As did she.

That kiss set her heart alight, made her feel things she never felt with Nadir. But there was no comfort in it. This man, this dreadfully scary man was risky and dangerous and everything a woman shouldn't want in a man. But she wanted it, she wanted it so bad.

But Nadir was something different. He made her feel comfortable, he was safe and he was kind. If she wanted to be with him, he would be there and no one would question it. He was everything a woman wanted in a man... But she realised, she didn't want it.

Erik watched as she had her head down. It twitched slightly, like she was having a little debate in her head. His far too vivid to be sensible imagination started to give him little images that made him chuckle.

A little debate in her head like a conscience, on one side she was dressed in red, the other in white. She was sat in the middle trying to keep up with what they were saying. Or a little tug of war, him pulling one of her arms, Nadir the other.

He smiled to himself, but he must have been there a long time because when he snapped back into reality, he was nudging his arm. "Oh, I do apologise. I was miles away." He patted her head and walked past her.

She followed behind him, not entirely sure on how to proceed. Feeling around, she found a chair, then quickly sat in it in an attempt to look natural. It was to no avail.

He looked at her, sitting there looking completely uncomfortable. It looked like she was trying too hard to look natural. IT really didn't suit her.

"Are you quite comfortable there?" A blush immediately crossed her cheeks and she nodded. "It's just you keep wriggling around like caterpillar under a magnifying glass." She stopped dead and tried not to move. And that supressed chuckle escaped him once again.

"Erik?" Her voice was still weak but she wanted to speak and he knew that he couldn't stop her. "I'm still... i'm still scared of you."

Those words made his heart-break. His Mother was scared of him, Christine and now her... BUt he had to understand, he had to cope and he had to be patient. "Erik?" She called out again.

She couldn't sense a reaction, he wasn't moving and he wasn't speaking. Silence, tension and anticipation filled the room. Then he stood, he walked away. "Erik?" Once again she called out, then coughed- her throat really did hurt.

When he came back, he was walking faster. Her heart thundered in her ears; what was he going to do? What was he going to say? That's when she felt his tight hand wrap around her wrist ans haul her up.

He shoved something glossy and wooden into her left hand, then the right. Then he sat back down in the chair opposite. For a while she stood there just scanning he fingers along the foreign objects until it dawned on her.

It was a bow and a violin. He wanted a private concert.

* * *

**What will happen next?!**

**Will they get together?!**

**Will she give him a 'private concert'?!**

**Find out, next time in The Girl with the Auburn Hair!**

**Peace!**


	16. Chapter 16

**thegeyerguesthoouse, thanks once again for a great review. I do try my hardest not to make grammatical errors and try to fix them during proof reading. However, I do tend to the miss them. I'm still developing my writing style and experimenting with all kinds of techniques so I promise I'll get better.**

**Thanks for all the support.**

* * *

Cynthia stood before him. With her violin and bow in hand she took big deep breaths, it confused her. Why did he want her to play? She hadn't played in so long. Besides, always criticised her.

"Cynthia. Play." He demanded once again in a low, authoritative tone as he crossed his legs in the red, velvet arm-chair. The auburn took up her bow, she had no idea what to play. Nothing anyone ever played satisfied him.

So she stood with her bow pressed against the strings nervously, like a rabbit under the head lights. She licked her lips, her legs were wobbling. Why was she so nervous? Why did she want to please him so badly?

The phantom sighed impatiently, his foot tapping slightly against the cavern floor. What in Gods name was she waiting for, an orchestra? This waiting was driving him crazy, he wanted to hear her play again! Like that night when she snook into the Opera house with Nadir and played alone on the stage. It was perfect.

Her music set a fire in his heart that easily competed (and won) with Christine's. A fire he'd now long forgotten. After waiting far too long, he stood and walked up to her.

She gasped as he neared closer, she could almost feel him towering over. Huffs and puffs were coming from him. But he walked straight past her; she felt almost disappointed.

Moving her bow from her violin, she felt her shoulders sag down. Where did he go?

That's when she heard a strike of notes run through her. It was high and sharp and unusual, not exactly melodic- but intense. It slowed, slowed, slowed- then stopped.

This time, the rhythm was slower and more melancholic... a song that Erik hadn't played since he opened that mirror and dragged her into his depths of despair. But she didn't seem to want to join in. So instead he quickened the pace.

He closed his eyes, allowing that dark melody to take over him again and then-she struck her bow and joined in. He turned around to see her bow moving over those strings with rapid pace. She spun and twirled with as much skill as a practiced ballerina.

It was almost as if with every move she was a sultry goddess. He began to get distracted and slowed the music, but like his puppet she got washed away with it. So he played his song; as he gazed upon her, she was an angel. The true angel of music.

She slowed her movements, even in her face he could sense the sincerity in the music. For a second, she opened her eyes. It was almost as if she had seen him truly for the first time.

That's when he saw her lips part, as she whispered to herself "and I know he's here...". Once again, he switched melody. To the first song his Christine had played on stage. He wanted to see her try it.

And she was absolutely flawless. He watched as her lips whispered the lyrics to herself, her body moved with the music and in that dress she was practically glowing. Dazzled by her beauty, he stopped playing. Not even noticing that though his fingers twitched- he never met the keys.

She noticed this, and continued to play as she walked over to the piano. Closer and closer to him, then switched to the song written out as scribbles on the piano. His eyes recognised it immediately.

One part of him wanted to snatch the music from her sight and stop this entire charade. But another part... his soul wanted to join her. No song was as beautiful, when she played it- it was magnified into pure bliss. So he sang.

"Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation. Darkness stirs and wakes imagination." He stood up from his seat and walked up to her. His eyes scanning over her angelic form as he began to circle her. He wanted to take in all of her splendor.

"Silently the senses abandon their defenses...Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor." As he moved closer, he could feel her relaxing into it. She played like a woman possessed, with such finesse and ease. It was like she had been playing for hundreds of years.

"Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender." Her playing wasn't enough, he had to touch her, so he laid passionate strokes along her silken skin."Turn your face away from the garish light of day,turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light." Her playing stopped as she succumb to his euphoric voice and its godden flavour.

But they needed no music. All they needed was his voice, her response and the silence itself was an orchestra.

"And listen to the music of the night-" His voice was interrupted by hers. It was something beyond comprehension.

"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams, purge your thoughts of the life you knew before..." It wasn't strong, it wasn't unwavering. It was low, suggestive, sultry. Almost toxic upon any man who hears it.

"Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar." Erik moved in and wrapped an arm around her waist as he fused his voice with hers. "And you live as you've never lived before..." Slowly, her head turned until he could almost feel her soft, hot breath upon his skin. Those auburn locks, tangled in his fingers like a fiery spiders web. Perfume was strong, lingering from her.

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you, hear it, feel it secretly possess you." He sang in her ear, almost a whisper and her eyes closed. It was almost as if she really could see him. See him for a person, see through to his damaged soul.

"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind-"She pulled away, turning to face him and sing directly to him.

"In this darkness that you know you cannot fight." Her hand-picked his up, brushing along his palm as she pulled even further away. "The darkness of the music of the night."

Yet, he couldn't stand not feeling her touch! Gripping hold of her hand before she could drift away from him entirely, he yanked her back in desperately.

"Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world, leave all thoughts of the life you knew before." Slowly, she stepped further and further into him, that soft hand moving up to his mask... "Let your soul take you where you long to be!" Her hand dropped as his voice overcame her again.

"Only then can you belong to me..." One more time, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close. Sighing at her warmth.

"Floating, falling," Now her voice was mixed with sweet, whispering breaths. Each consonant was emphasised sharply and bruskly, all vowels dragged out in a low- provocative demeanor. "sweet intoxication...Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation."

He let his hands roam around her, doing as she said, taking in each touch and breath like it would be his last. Then caught the breath to sing once again.

"Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write...The power of the music of the night." She took in big, deep breaths as she slowly turned around.

Their lips were meer millimetres apart, each soft breath could be felt. Each twitch could be seen, ever flutter of the eyelashes felt on the others cheek. Once again her hand rose, resting on his mask. He was too lost to care.

And she took it off, letting her hand caress the deformity underneath. Never grimacing, never pulling away in horror and laid a small, sweet, fleeting kiss upon his parted lips. Then pulled away to sing,

"You alone can make my song take flight. Help me make the music of the night..."

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**I miss reviews.**

**But anyway, I'll update soon.**

**As soon as.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks for the feedback.**

**Thankyou RedDeathLvr and Destiny Xavier16.**

**Seriously, you guys are awesome.**

* * *

Erik woke with a groan. His limbs were stiff and his back ached a little, but all was soothed when he felt her warm and gentle breathing against his back.

Angling his head over his broad shoulder, he smiled. There she was, curled up in a little ball beside him- her hands were flat against his back. Her forehead rested between his shoulder blades.

The red silk covers cast a shine as they coiled around her. It seemed like she had attempted to cover herself from him, maybe an attempt to regain some of the dignity she had lost last had to be the best night in existence.

He turned around and faced her, she made a slight whining noise as his warmth left her. However, he quickly wrapped her up in his arms. A smile radiated from those rouge lips.

"Good morning." He whispered tenderly into her ear. He felt the hairs stick up on the back of her neck as he spoke to her and smirked a little.

That's when he felt an unfamiliar breeze on his head and face. It felt cold and made him go white with panic. Where in god's name was his mask, his wig? Had they fallen of?!

Letting go of her gently, he sat up and scanned around for his mask. His eyes darted left to right as he craned his neck. Using his free hand, he smoothed back the very little hair he had and took a few deep breaths. That was when he felt a reassuring hand on his leg.

"It's okay. I took it off last night, I could sense it was agitating you. Just relax, enjoy the freedom for a while." Her voice soothed him and he laid back down. She curled up on his stomach, those beautiful auburn locks were set free; sprawled across his chest.

For a while they just laid there. Erik stared up at the rocky cavern roof and his lover drifted in and out of sweet sleep. Eventually it had to end, evident as she crawled away from him.

She tried to shield herself from his devilish gaze, to no avail. Whenever she tried to put on an item of clothing it would fall down and it would make him chuckle under his breath. A blush would cross her cheeks and she would turn away more.

"Just relax, enjoy the freedom for a while." Chuckled the unmasked man as he tugged the silken sheet until it fell off her. She recoiled and tried to pull her dress up over herself quickly. Alas, she was too slow and he had seen all.

"It's nothing that I haven't seen before my little vixen." He scooted over to her and wrapped his long arms around her waist, laying kisses along her bare back. Memories of the night before came flooding back.

The music, the caresses and sighs. It was like rapture itself, she quaked under him and he felt so powerful and whole again. As did she. She felt so equal and empowered and very much like a real woman. And she had not a care about what he looked like.

She finished changing into her clothes, Erik slipped away to change into his usual and rather strange fetish for night attire. When he returned, she was stood beside his piano. Leant against it, she let her fingers just skim along the keys; Stopping when he approached.

"Cynthia, please sit-" Before he could finish his polite gesture to try to make her comfortable she interrupted him.

"What about Nadir?" The question struck him cold and hard. He never wanted to face that cruel reality and his friend who he had betrayed so ruthlessly.

In all truth, he had never thought about how he would face his friend. He was selfish in that respect. But he never wanted her to leave, he could stay here with her forever. All they would need would be each other and their music. Blissful, gracious, sinful.

Then again, he had never been a religious man. Always, he strived for the sciences which he didn't doubt were the future for generations and generations to come. Maybe even a next generation that Cynthia may bear, with his help of course.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to keep her down here forever, he knew that she would surely loathe him for it. She tired of even the most humorous company in but a few minutes anyway. He would have to face the world with her.

"We let him down slowly. We don't want him to choke on the information." Jested the Phantom as she came to his side. She entwined her fingers with his and he looked at them. It just seemed so... right.

"Very well then, we shall go." She said in imperative voice. Her tone was hardly ever hesitant or unwavering, it was confident and demanding. That's what he liked, someone who could match his authority and not tremble in his presence.

He was so glad to have found the right woman. And he had seen her naked as the extra. She was indeed beautiful in that form.

As they walked back through the flooded tunnels of the old London sewerage system he looked at her, admiring every part of her as she advanced ahead. Eventually she stopped. He thought perhaps she was lost, but she turned around and looked at him.

"Can you please refrain from doing that." She said as she crossed her arms impatiently over her chest. He was abacked, aghast and made a scoff to suggest so. However, she frowned and tapped her foot upon the stone floor.

"Refrain from doing what, might I ask?" He asked innocently.

"Undressing me with your eyes, it is rather distracting." He gave a little chuckle and stepped forward to catch up to her. Then, in one big motion, scooped his arm under her waist and hoisted her up- picking her up in a bridal motion.

"No."

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**Sorry for leaving it so long.**

**Busy, busy, busy. **

**Please review, it really helps.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks for waiting so long for this chapter. This is when everything goes down, so it had to be good.**

**I am actually in an exam period at the moment, so finding time to write is hard and the quality has to be right too. **

**Anyway, enough of my excuses.**

**Destiny Xavier16, indeed. There will be a lot of angst and anger and fighting in the next chapter.**

**Angel's wings, well I doubt they will have to break anything to Nadir. He could be dead. **

**So it continues.**

* * *

Lily waited. She waited so long that it actually started to hurt, everything had gone wrong. Cynthia wasn't supposed to go missing, she had planned out that night perfectly. Then _he _messed it all up.

Now, still in her dress and with her make-up smudged in a disgraceful way she clasped her hands together. It collected the tears, mourning the loss of her dearest Nadir. She had wanted him so bad... Desperately. Now he was gone.

Cynthia was all she had left. Good, innocent little Cynthia. Though she loved her sister dearly, unconditionally, she wasn't enough. What she needed was a lover, someone to spend the rest of her life with. That could have been Nadir.

"Can I help you, Miss?" A kind looking man, clad in black approached her. The years had not been kind to him, his face sagged and wrinkled, but there was wisdom in those bright green eyes. With a limp, he walked towards her.

"Oh," She sighed sadly and gathered up her dress skirts, "I doubt anyone can now." he sat down on the pew next to her. Placing his hands over the thick, leather-bound book on his lap.

"You do know child, that despite my age- I am a good listener." He gave a cheeky chuckle, "In fact, it is my job you know? Has been my job for fifty years now." But Lily stood, turning away from him and walking down the pew.

Before she left, she stopped and looked around. Then in a dark and unsettling tone said,

"No forgiveness should be given to one such as me." she was gone.

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Erik and Cynthia emerged from the tunnel. Despite the nights activities, everything was relatively clean. A strange silence loomed over the opera house. Not even any of the cleaning staff lurked about, no one was smoking just outside. Everything was in fact, barren.

Erik took Cynthia's hand in his and kissed it. She gave a smile and he started to walk away, but she had to stop him.

"Cynthia, I have to leave. You must go home, your parents will be worried about you." But her grip was vice like and she stopped him.

"Erik, come back to my household. Meet my parents. They'll want to meet you, you can't live in that cave forever. Besides, Nadir-" He cut her off with a kiss and started leading her out of the Opera house.

"Come along then, let's get into a carriage." But the strange thing was, there were no carriages. No shops were open, the busy high street wasn't streaming with people. Even beggars cleared themselves off the streets, the silence was a strange sensation.

Cynthia could feel the cold and dark atmosphere that loomed over them, hearing the first rumble of thunder to come tumbling over them. That was the only sound in this usually busy place. "This way." Erik prompted her to follow him.

He led them down some winding alleyways and out onto an open field. The first few droplets of the coming storm arrived, dampening Cynthia's auburn hair. In an instant, he whipped off his cloak and wrapped it around her. He gave her a warming hug.

"Stay here, my chilly kitten. I'll be back in just a minute." Erik left Cynthia, she stood patiently as more rain began to fall and the air chilled to an ungodly temperature. How had she come to put so much trust into one man?

The sight of her stood in the rain, clutching her hands and soaked to the skin made him chuckle slightly as he approached, tugging on the rains of his jet black, silky horse. Cynthia's face lit up when she hear the clack of horses hooves through the thick mud. "Cynthia, this is-"

Before he could finish, she sprinted towards him and wrapped her arms around the horse neck. She stroked it's main and giggled endlessly.

"It's a horse!" She gasped and played with it's ears, "What does it look like?!" she asked as she nuzzled it's face.

"His name's Sylvester. He's tall, beautiful, glossy black fur and big, round, brown eyes that any woman would die for." He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the saddle, guiding her foot to the stirrups and gently pushing her onto his back. He managed it in one swift motion. Then, with a flick of the reins, they trotted off.

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"Lily, Darling. Please, stop pacing." Insisted her mother, Gwyneth, as she poured spoon after spoon of sugar into her already sweetened tea. "You're making me and Henry nervous. It isn't healthy for us, given our age." Henry gave a smile and the shake of his head.

Despite the wrinkles on his face and his slow step, he was still very much young and heart. No one would persuade him otherwise. Gwyneth, however, would use her age as an excuse to get away with murder. Just like now.

"For goodness sake Gwen, we're only forty-three." He insisted as he pulled the sugar away from her before she done herself some serious damage. But the woman stared at him with a stern, unsettling expression.

"I'm forty-five. You are forty-six. Not forty-three, forty-six." Suddenly realising his error, he scoffed and blushed. Sitting back in his chair.

"Well, I may be forty-six but I still have a spring in my-" As he attempted to lift himself up from his chair, there was a sickening crack and he fell back down. "Ouwhh owhh owww." Gwyneth rubbed his back and gave a smug smile as she lifted the tea-cup up to her lips.

Lily slumped in her chair, biting on her nails. Her mother grimaced and tried to ignore it. But eventually, that snap, snap snap of each nail as it broke off and flew into her mouth became too much and Gwen shrieked.

"LILY FOR GOODNESS SAKE FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO DO!" Everyone stopped and turned around to look at her, who was now gulping down tea. She dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin and cleared her throat as if nothing ever happened.

'_Knock, knock, knock' _came at the door and they all turned around. They waited patiently for a maid to come in. She looked pale as a ghost and gave but a nod. Before their soaken child and the strange, tall man entered the room.

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**Thank you. **

**This is sort of the build up to what is to come.**

**Reviews would be nice.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thank you for being so patient with my idle-ness. **

**I do apologise.**

**Angel's wings: Thank you for your continued feed back! Like seriously, thanks.**

**Anyway, let's do this.**

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Lily sat, twiddling her thumbs, finding herself once again sat in the cold and crumbling church. Her hands were clasped together as she muttered prayer after prayer into them. She shivered. She was thoroughly wet and it chilled her bones.

Her hair stuck to her scalp, droplets of water ran down her face as she rocked back and forth on her knees. Every time a droplet fell from her face and made a splat onto the floor, it made her jump up and scream. Then she would purse her lips, kneel back down, close her eyes and continue to mutter to herself.

God could never forgive her. In all that she did and in all that she thought, her soul had become tainted. There was no place in his arms, in his heaven for her. She continued to rock. The door opened.

"So, here I find you again, child." It was the kind looking man, clad in black, he approached her once again. With wide eyes, she pulled herself up onto the pew and took shaky breaths. "My dear, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

Gulping, Lily nodded. She wrung her hands in her lap and he watched her. "You look like someone with a guilty conscience, child." At this she gave a slight giggle and with shaky voice said;

"I am far from a child now father, far from human. Far from innocent." With that, she stood and walked away once again.

* * *

Cynthia's parents sat, staring at the tall man who stood beside their daughter, aiding her and holding her hand in his. This was rather unorthodox. Cynthia would never let anyone help her, not even her sister. Lily looked pale as she stared at them both, eyes wild and wide.

"What is this?!" Her voice sounded choked and high, almost like she was deprived of oxygen and about to faint.

"Cynthia, I think it's best if I leave now." Erik whispered tenderly into her ear as everyone stood staring at his mask. However, as he tried to turn away she wouldn't let go. "Cynthia..." He began.

"In a hurry to leave Mr...?" Her father, Henry, asked as he attempted to sit up into a position that made him seem bold and affluent. Erik stopped.

"Destler." Erik cleared his throat nervously and turned around once again. "I just think it improper to stay, seeing as though you have missed your darling daughter for so long and I-" He was interrupted when Gwyneth laughed hautily.

"Improper? Improper you say?!" The old woman flew to her feet. "You are the one who takes our daughter away for your wicked deeds and bring her back at this hour!" Cynthia scoffed.

"Erik is a good, kind man. He does no wicked deeds!" She yelled, fist clenched and veins practically popping from her ethereal features. "He has been more a parent, guardian, friend and lover than you could be, or Nadir!" Her mother looked aghast. As she fell back into her chair, Henry gave his head a sad shake.

"What?", Cynthia asked as she read the silence and the tension in the air. Erik gripped her hand and pulled her in close.

"Nadir... Nadir is dead." Lilly said shortly, darkness looming in her voice.

They sat around the table. No one said a word, the tea had gone cold. Yet, no one called a maid to make a fresh pot, no one dared to ask. Cynthia sat in the arm-chair, Erik stood by her side like a faithful dog, waiting. Meanwhile, her mother scowled at him disapprovingly. Henry dared not make contact with the amber eyed man.

"Someone please say something." Lily jumped in as she writhed her hands through her hair. The silence was deafening.

"How did he die?" Erik asked, looking to Henry who immediately looked down, seemingly at his shoes. Gwyneth pursed her lips.

"They found him with a noose around his neck, red. Someone had broken in there, strangled him to death." Henry explained as he continued to look down at his shining shoes. Lily looked up to Erik, making brief eye contact, before something caught in her throat and she had to look away.

"Nadir was... A dear friend of mine..." Erik tried to explain, but was interrupted by the nattering of the old hag.

"Yet you stole Cynthia, a woman he loved and adored!" Erik clenched his toes and ground his teeth together as she cackled on, the vile witch.

"Cynthia, I really should be leaving now." For a second time, he went to turn away but was stopped. This time by Henry.

"Wait!" He called out. Erik stomped his foot against the ground and came to a halt. "You can't possibly go back out in that rain, stay the night." Gwyneth gave a wide-eyed glare at her husband. He nonchalantly shook it off. "In a separate room to my daughter of course."

Erik looked around, though Henry seemed genuine, his wife was the problem. There was also the issue with his mask. What if they took it off? Then he definitely wouldn't be allowed anywhere near their daughter.

But he saw how Cynthia's face lit up when her father asked. It was almost progress. So he accepted their offer, and the inevitably rough night.

Erik sat next to Cynthia. Apparently, in her family they spend an hour every night doing what they call 'family time'. It wasn't a bad arrangement, sparing one hour a day to spend in each others company as the days get so busy. It was normal, Erik wasn't accustomed to 'normal'.

The fire crackled away as Lily read a story about a highwayman who falls in love with a woman, it ended sadly. She gave her life to save his. It was a bittersweet ending all in all. But it seemed to satisfy her parents that her education wasn't after all a waste.

It seemed that each of them did something to share with the family. Erik had heard Nadir speak of Gwyneth's singing, strong but sadly not the most tuneful. Nonetheless, in an attempt to keep peace he clapped.

"Do you play any instruments, my boy?" Asked Henry as he slowly pulled himself up out of his chair. Erik cleared his throat.

"Violin, organ, piano, flute, cello, double bass, bassoon, trumpet, clarinet and harp." Cynthia listed for him, although, he was only going to say piano. The rest makes him sound a little egotistical.

Henry laughed and crossed over to the room, a limp in his step, to a piano with a white cover over it. In one, swift motion, he ripped it off. It revealed a shining, black, grand piano in all its splendor. The old man looked at Erik with a glint in his eye as Erik sat down, pressed his fingers to the keys and played.

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**Story will develop from here.**

**Sorry about the long gaps, currently losing motivation.**

**[insert more excuses here]**

**Reviews help allot.**

**Thanks.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you all so much for spurring me on this far. I never thought I would make it to twenty chapters. **

**RedDeathLvr, thank you for the review!**

**thegeyerguesthoouse, we don't know who's killed Nadir, not yet anyway. Thank you for the review, they really do help to spur me on.**

**Angel's wings, thanks for your positive and ongoing feedback. Seriously, thanks!**

**So it continues.**

* * *

The church was barren. Empty and cold bar for the candle light that flickered around, Lily sat, as the guilt that burned inside her slowly unhinged her troubled mind. The old man watched her from across the church hall.

She bit on her nails, making a snap, snap, _snap_. It was freezing cold, but there she sat dressed as if it was summer. Even from across the church he could see the goosebumps on her tender arms.

He walked over to her quietly, as if approaching a wounded animal he didn't wish to scare. She knew he was there, opening and closing her mouth like a stunned fish. Oh how she wanted to confess her sins, tell the world what she had done; to her sister, to the opera house...

As he sat next to her, he took her hand. Her teary gaze shot up to him and she looked him in the eye.

"Are you ready to confess your sins?" He asked, with soothing voice.

Then, with a nervous gulp and a churning stomach she followed him towards the altar of the church, ready to confess all.

* * *

Gwyneth stood, staring at the masked man with awe. She linked arms with her husband and rested her old head on his strong shoulders. His music could make one feel anything he wished.

Cynthia smiled and sat on the piano next to him, caressing his hand that remained pressed to the keys as he played his last note. He grinned and looked to her, she had such a beautiful smile.

"Have you ever played?" He asked in a smooth voice as he wrapped an arm around her thin form. Laughing almost sarcastically, she motioned to her eyes but he shook his head. "It's easy, let me show you."

And with that, he picked up her hand and placed it gently on the keys - then pressed down on her fingers in the same rhythmic way, until she did it herself. Then, accompanied her with the bass.

That big, glowing smile grew bolder and made his heart melt. Henry stood, bold and proud of his daughters choice in suitor.

* * *

After super, Henry escorted Erik to his room. The house itself was grand, quite new - the smell of fresh paint was very prominent. The old man bent over and unlocked the door with much care and precision. The room was larger than anything he had ever seen.

Erik walked in, looked around and smiled politely at his lovers father, who closed the door behind him.

"Cynthia's lucky to have a man like you in her life." Erik's eyes widened in shock, he'd never even considered it that way, "She can be very stubborn when it comes to men and well... her condition hardly helps." He looked down at the ground as Henry continued.

"But she seems to trust you. You're someone who she can rely on." The old man smiled and grunted as he sat down on the chair in the corner of the room.

"To be honest Sir, I think I'm lucky to have your daughter. I've loved others before, but I've never cared so much about someone." The old man looked at him skeptically.

"Is that because of your mask, and your wig for that matter." The Phantom closed his eyes and let out a big sigh.

"What's wrong with your face anyway, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I... was... deformed at birth." Erik confessed as he slumped onto the bed, clutching his mask.

"I see..." Acknowledged the old man, nodding and stroking his stubble that he lazily shaved on a rare occasion.

"It has hindered everything that I wanted to do with my life..."

"And what was it that you wanted to do?" He asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh... everything!" He laughed throatily, with deep passion. "Architecture, composing, magic, medicine, science, inventions!"

"And do you do them?" He asked, as he took a cigar from his pocket and lit it. Erik nodded in reply.

"I built a maze of mirrors for the Shah of Persia. I composed my own opera, helped Nikola Tesla in his investigations with electricity... But I will never be remembered." He sighed "All because of my cursed face."

"If you don't mind, may I see?" Erik stared at the man in bewilderment for a while. Why did he want to see? Surely he would only laugh, frankly he didn't care anymore.

The Phantom peeled off his mask and slid off his wig. He closed his eyes tight so he didn't have to see the fear in his eyes. All was quiet. Then, he felt a hand pat his head and a small chuckle.

Erik opened his eyes to see the old man smiling down at him, his hand on his head. "My son, I have been in more wars than you can count on your fingers and toes, I've seen some horrific 'injuries, this is nothing. It makes you who you are. Not to be insensitive, but if you looked like an angel and used your intelligence... You'd never have met my little girl. You've made her so happy and brought out that little girl I used to take on picnics, who would laugh and have fun. You have a rare gift son, use it and make her happy. For me, please?" Erik nodded and put on his mask, his heart glowed a little inside.

* * *

Cynthia walked into her room, with a tired and shuffling step. She could sense that someone was sat there, waiting.

"Cynthia... there's something that I've been needing to tell you." Lily shifted nervously on the bed as collected the papers in her arms. Cynthia could immediately sense that something was terribly wrong.

"Yes Lily, go on ahead." She approached the bed and sat next to her beloved sister.

"Have you ever heard the story, of the Phantom of the Opera?" Lily asked, licking her lips nervously. But her sister shook her head.

"Then you're in for a shock, my dear."

* * *

**Oh dear.**

**review?**


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks for all the waiting, I am indeed very lazy. I have a second fic that should be coming up soon that I'm working on, so I'd appreciate if you looked out for that.**

**Destiny Xavier16, yes, Lily is about to ruin everything- but what's a good story without a little drama?**

**And so the adventure continues...**

* * *

"I didn't mean for it to go this far!" Cried Lily, her shoulders shuddered and her small frame shook as the old priest consoled her. The candle light was dimming and the wax had nearly all but melted away. The slight flickers gave very little light to the eerie shadows that filled the parish.

The look on her face was of pure disgrace and shame. "I act the victim but i am the villain!" She carried on to sob for what to seemed like days. The tears seemed to never cease and her voice cracked with sadness.

The man held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. She dared not to look up at his honest, kind and warm gaze.

"Whatever your sin, whatever your wrongs...God still loves you." At this she scoffed and wiped her eyes with an angry and impatient motion.

"God knows of my sins and my God has deserted me!" The honest man held her cold, tear-stained hands in his as they shook uncontrollably.

"Then tell me your sins, then I can forgive you!" But Lily shook her head and tried to pull away. Despite his age, he was strong and held her hands tightly. "I can forgive you!"

"Murder!" She screamed, "Murder, murder, murder!" The mans eyes widened in fear as everything, the mumblings and the regret all made sense. She was a killer. Yet, despite her confession, he still found himself in disbelief.

In the heat of the moment, she tugged away her hands and pushed at his shoulders. He lost his balance and was tossed back in his chair. Lily screamed and watched as his chair fell back, his skull cracked against the side of the altar. Blood, thick and red spilt across the floor.

It stained the white cloth and his honest eyes lost their warm light. She poured a small flask of alcohol over his robes, then tossed a candle at him. Walking away as the flames consumed his body, along with any evidence she may have left.

Pulling up her hood, she walked out the back entrance. That night, she took the long way home.

* * *

Cynthia stood in the centre of the room, her mouth gaping and tears running down her face as she attempted to make sense of what her sister had just told her. Her legs felt weak and her mind felt blank.

Erik couldn't be that same man, he just couldn't! He is no phantom, no angel, no father! But... he was always so evasive about his past. His secretive nature could be explained by all her sister had told her.

The description, that skull, corpse like face was so accurate. She was aware he did used to work at that Opera house, he had told her himself. But never had he mentioned his 'little angel' Christine Daee. Or his psychopathic love for her. Or the murders...

She dragged herself to her desk and sat, touching the cold glass of the mirror- not that it was any use in her room. Lily made a sad sigh as she walked over to her.

"I loved him... I was... I was so in love..." Lily came up behind her, staring at her sisters pale, pretty reflection in the mirror. Cracks of tears running down those porcelain cheeks. Cynthia felt her beloved sisters hands grasp her shoulders.

"But he loves that Daee woman. She's here, in England tomorrow. He came here for her, he used you." She rubbed her cheek against her sisters. "My poor little Cynthia..." Lily spotted the thorny rose on the dresser, a black ribbon tied around it.

She took her sister's hand and handed her it, wrapping her hand around the thorns and closing it around it tightly. Her sister winced. "He wanted to hurt you, hurt you like she hurt him. Took away your only chance of happiness... Nadir"

"Y-you said he was murdered... strangled with...the same lasso..." Lily wrapped her arms around her sisters waist, watching as the droplets of blood hit the dresser. Then whispered tenderly into her ear;

"Yes..." That breath was like ice and the tone was soft and stabbed at her heart, tender enough as it was.

Cynthia closed her eyes shut tighter and grasped at the rose, more droplets of blood his the dresser and Lilly smirked in her sister's ear. "All men want to do is shame you... You're no longer pure, no one else will want you... He has left you in tatters..." She plucked the petals from the rose, watching them land in her sisters blood.

"What do you plan to do? Cynthia, darling?" Her sister was breathing, short and heavy, tears running from her eyes, cheeks ablaze.

"I want to end him..." Lily chuckled and sat behind her sister, platting her auburn her, as dark as blood, as red as fury.

"And what about the Daee girl?" Cynthia ceased her crying and dropped the rose onto the table with a gentle thud.

"She, will go up in flames with him." Lily chuckled and tied the ribbon in her hair.

"You impress me so, my little sister."

* * *

**Quite short I know, but hey at least I updated!  
Reviews?**


	22. Chapter 22

**Paula, thanks for the review! In a way, I suppose something has definitely cracked inside Lily... We will see.**

**Sorry for the long gap, me being lazy, blah, blah and blah.**

* * *

Erik lay in the bed that Cynthia's family had kindly lent him. Looking up at the ceiling as the first few rays of sunlight cracked through the window. That vicious storm that threatened the lands and brought a wicked breeze, had finally passed. Although, admittedly, he was still a fan of the rain.

There came a timid knock at the door, a woman of small stature slid in. She was wearing a maids uniform, her bonnet low over her face. Leaning on the door to keep it open, she balanced a bowl of water oh her hip and held a clump of paper in the other. There was something familiar about her...

Nonetheless, he let her go about her business; placing the bowl of water down on the table, then the paper on the side of his desk. She closed the door behind her almost silently, disappearing through it with the grace of an alley cat.

When he found enough will power to get up, he shuffled over to the bowl of water, slid off his mask and dunked his head into it. The water was cold and refreshing, it knocked him into conciousness as he made his way over to the desk to enquire about the papers.

With a sigh, he flopped onto his bed again, unravelling the string that kept the papers rolled up. It was a newspaper. Gently, he unfolded it and took a read.

At first, it struck his heart a little. The shock of seeing that face, that beautiful, angelic face that made his heart leap and caused him many sleepless nights, brought with it terrible memories. Not to mention make him think those dark, sultry thoughts that one must only think of when alone.

But then the feeling numbed a little. So, he read on. He couldn't quite believe what he was reading, the scandal about the Vicomte's gambling debts, Christine struggling with his drinking problem and his arrogance. It made his blood boil slightly that he had lost to a man like that.

Then his heart stopped. Christine Daee, rather Christine De Chagney was coming to the Opera house in London to perform! As organised by the recently deceased Nadir Khan... that snake.

There would only be one reason he would invite her here, for him. But he didn't want her and Nadir knew that, so why would he invite her? To break Cynthia's heart? But she knew nothing of his past, unless he was planning to tell her.

All of these thoughts were running through his mind at a thousand miles per hour and his heart was struggling to keep up with the emotions that brewed inside him. He almost squealed when a second knock came at the door.

"Erik, Erik darling?" It was Cynthia, his loving, adoring Cynthia. She knocked once again, not hearing him.

"Y-yes, come in." He folded the paper and placed it on the bed, sitting up and slipping on his mask as she opened the door. Alas, there was something very different about her.

There was something strange, out of place with her appearance, no her demeanor. As she walked over to him, she seemed almost angry, but trying to suppress it. Her shoulders were square, hunched a little and tight.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he knocked the papers to the side and lead her to his bed. She sat and heard the rustle of the papers behind her.

"More importantly, what have you been reading?" She asked, snappily as she ground her teeth together.

"Nothing, just the newspaper that the maid brought me." Cautiously placing a hand on her shoulder, he asked, "Why, what does it matter?" But she shrugged his hand away.

"Have you heard the news, that French Opera singing Christy Day is-" Erik couldn't help, but just on pure impulse, he had to correct her.

"Christine Daee." He found himself saying it a little louder than he perhaps should, he had to clasp his hand over his mouth and watch as her chest grew a little tight and she scoffed.

"Yes, well she is performing at the Opera house tomorrow night." She stated in a matter-of-a-fact sort of way.

"I have heard rumours... what of it?" He asked, feeling as if he should tread cautiously around this topic.

"I've heard that she is very beautiful... in fact, i've heard allot about her and her... story." Erik's heart stopped and his palms grew a little sweaty. "I heard that she was visited by an angel and that she herself is like an angel and beautiful over all compare." At the end, she gave a little chuckle. "What do you think?"

Erik had his mouth slack for a little while, unsure of what to say. "Cat got your tounge?" She teased.

"I-I-I don't know what she looks like." He stuttered, but Cynthia laughed.

"She's on the front cover of that newspaper, take a look. Tell me, is she really as beautiful as they all say?" Nervously, he glanced over to the paper, but couldn't find the confidence to move. "Well, go on then."

He picked it up from the floor and looked at the paper. She was indeed very beautiful, but she wasn't what he wanted. "Is she? Tell me? Is she beautiful beyond compare?"

"She's not as beautiful as you-" As he went to kiss her cheek, she pulled away from him.

"That's not what I asked you." Snatching the paper off him, she scoffed. "Describe her to me." Erik felt a little flustered, as if he was being interrogated. In fact, he was being interrogated.

"She has brown hair, light blue eyes, pale skin... and..." Cynthia turned her head towards him sharply.

"And, her body?" She urged him to continue. He did.

"Small, thin and with womanly curves, why?" Cynthia stood, throwing the paper onto his lap and storming over to the door.

"You can only see her face in that picture." She snapped as she opened the door with an angry swing. "And we have no maids in this household." Dropping a crisp, white bonnet onto the floor, she slammed the door furiously and Erik sat, his heart thundering in his chest. He was in trouble.

Deep trouble.

* * *

**It's all kicking off.**

**Reviews really help, so please I urge you to do so.**


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